The Heir to Panem
by DustWriter
Summary: Katniss alone wins the 74th Hunger Games to return to her family and home in District Twelve. But the admiration of a dangerous suitor changes her life and plans forever. Banner by Ro Nordmann: h t t p :/tinyurl . com /6p9jjln delete spaces
1. Chapter 1

I feel like the first few chapters of this story run a little slow, so if any of my fellow writers have suggestions on spicing them up, I'd love to hear them!

The Heir to Panem

I dig my nails into the rich fabric of the red tufted chair and hope the cameras can't see my knuckles turn white. I don't want to watch Rue die again. I close my eyes when the spear pierces her side. I hear the audience around me gasp. I open my eyes at the sound of the hovercraft. They've edited out the flowers I blanketed over her.

I watch the rest of them fall. I see Tate drown in the river, too weak to pull his body up from the gentle stream. I see myself and Cato running from our hiding places in the woods, chased by mutts. Our final grapple on top of the Cornucopia and his slipping foot carrying him down over the side. I can hear his neck break now, probably digitally enhanced for effect. The viewers surrounding me cry out at the grotesque noise.

I'm watching myself sprawled on the Cornucopia, staring down at Cato's body. The trumpets sound again and they edit in stars to surround my face and declare me the winner of the 74th Hunger Games.

The lights come back up and Caesar Flickerman turns to me.

"And there we have it! Katniss Everdeen, our Victor!" He takes my hand and brings me to my feet. I wave to the audience, forcing a closed-lip smile. The cheer is deafening and my head pounds.

The lights go dark briefly. I hear the camera crew counting us out and then the work lights come up on the stage. The invited audience immediately stands and starts to move to the exits, bubbling with their own conversation.

"Well done, Miss Everdeen. Excellent interview!" Flickerman shakes my hand vigorously. "Make sure you save a dance for me tonight at your reception."

"Reception?"

"Of course!" Effie has appeared of my shoulders, glowing with pride. "You have a Victor's party at the president's mansion tonight."

"Victor's party?" I mumble, trying to remember all the details of my last few days here that she went over. I drifted off halfway through her spiel at breakfast thinking of seeing Prim again. The smell of the woods in Twelve. My mother. Gale.

"Yes, food and music and dancing!" Effie giggles and Caesar grins.

"It's always a wonderful time," Caesar nods rabidly. "You'll meet so many people," he winks.

I frown a little, and then try to recover a blank slate. I'm not really interested in meeting anyone else in this awful place.

"Great," I say without inflection. I hate to lie, but damn if I'm going to pretend to be happy about this. Caesar kisses my hand farewell and Effie whisks me back off the stage into the transport to the Training Center.

I climb into the small, silent car and sit back in my seat. I stare at the hem of my candle-glow yellow dress. Cinna was right; it did make me appear more innocent. Less of a cold-blooded killer and more of a girl ready to go home and be a child again. But that will never happen. I will never be the same again.

Effie clears her throat awkwardly and I look over at her. I wish she'd stop making such a production over everything she tells me. Nothing she's said has ever been profound.

"Caesar was right. You will be meeting a lot of people tonight," she says in a low voice. She glances up at our driver and then slides forward to press a small silver switch on the console between the driver and passenger seats at the front of the long car. A partition slides up between the rows and we are granted privacy.

Effie turns to me.

"There are a lot of rich, rich people who live in this city, Katniss," she says quickly. "You could make quite a life for yourself here."

"Thank you," I say with a tight jaw. "I just want to go home."

"I'm sure you do," Effie smiles dismissively and nods. "But you may just…want to spend some time mingling at this party. Get some contact information. It never hurts to make new friends."

"I have friends waiting for me at home," I smile in protest. I suppose it's not too much of a lie. Gale and Madge. They're friends.

Effie sighs. "You could have many more. Powerful friends. Like Finnick Odair has."

My smile falters. I cough a polite little laugh. "I hardly think people will fall over me like him," I roll my eyes.

"You never know," Effie says. "You of course, are not as attractive or witty as he, and you're certainly not graceful like Cashmere, but someone may find you attractive."

I try not to be too insulted. I remember Cashmere from a few years back. I think she was wearing an entirely sheer dress at the interviews, because my mother covered my eyes when she stood up to shake Caesar's hand. The brief view I had of the tall blond girl was that of incredible beauty. From behind my mother's palm I could hear her muttering about the poor girl's mother. Then again, that "poor girl" did kill most of the other tributes that year.

"Someone," I repeat back to Effie. I suddenly miss Gale a great deal. He'd have a great laugh with me over this conversation.

The car pulls into the underground garage of the Training Center. We glide across the gleaming concrete floor to the guarded elevator that will take me back upstairs.

"Off you go!" Effie hops out and holds the door for me. "Cinna will be waiting for you to get you dressed."

"I'm not wearing this?" I've only been wearing this dress for an hour.

"Oh heavens, no!" Effie laughs in surprise. "Everyone's seen you in that dress. You need another." She waves as she climbs back into the car. I hear the partition lowering as she directs the driver to take her to her home to get ready.

The Peacekeepers at the elevator usher me in with their weapons at the ready. I wonder if they think I'll escape or try to kill them too.

The doors slide silently close and the elevator begins to rise.

I lean back against the cold metal wall behind me. I stare at my reflection in the closed door. _Who is that person? Who is under that peach lipstick?_ I touch my softly curled hair. Venia has made it so soft it runs like melted dark chocolate over my fingers. My skin glows from the full body polish. My knees stare at me from under the hem of the simple dress. The scars from falling over tree trunks and chasing other children in the schoolyard are gone. The girl from District Twelve has been erased. The cold-blooded Victor Katniss Everdeen killed her in the Arena.

The elevator chimes and the doors open to my floor. Cinna is waiting for me with open arms. I fall into them, willing myself not to cry in front of the hidden cameras.

"Shh, there there," he says. "It's almost over. Just tonight and then an interview tomorrow and you're on a train home."

"I can't do this anymore," I pull back, shaking my head. "I'm so tired."

"Katniss," he laughs gently, leaning in close to hug me. He drops his mouth to my ear. "You have to go. It's for the President." He pulls back to smile for the cameras, but his eyes betray a great sadness. "I'll give you something to keep you up; it only lasts a few hours so you can sleep tonight. It'll make the time go by more quickly."

I nod unhappily. I let him lead me to my dressing area. Dresses are hung from every surface. They're beautiful, all of them. Violets and blues and greens and oranges. Tulle and lace and leather and taffeta. It's an explosion of color and art like only Cinna can create, but I can't find my excitement.

Cinna leaves me to call an Avox to bring me the wakefulness pills. I sit heavily on the large ottoman in the center of the room and avoid looking at myself in the mirror.

"Now then," Cinna returns, rubbing his hands together. "What are you going to wear?" He starts to move around the room, letting his eyes float between the dresses in his hands and my slouched form on the seat as he considers each one.

"I want to look like me," I blurt out. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Effie says I'm going to meet a lot of people who want to be my friend," I explain carefully. "I want…them to know the real me," I add, hoping he understands. I'm not sure he does. "I mean, I'll never be as lovely as Cashmere or Finnick," I say, trying to pierce him with my eyes, "so I shouldn't be too glamorous." I manage a false giggle. "I'd be fooling people."

He nods. I think he understands I want to look as plain as possible to avoid attention.

Cinna moves immediately to a long pink dress obscured by a feathered black miniskirt with peacock train. As he pulls off the plastic sleeve it wears, I know it's perfect.

It's simple. No sequins, no stones. A shirred sweetheart shaped bodice is its only embellishment. A gauzy tulle overlays and soft draping fabric. The suggestion of sleeves are attached to the straps, a small bit of fabric that floats on the breeze as he moves to the dress to me and gestures me to stand. It's even tea length so I won't trip.

I stand up and move to the mirror. Cinna stands behind me and holds the dress in front of me. We stare.

"Thank you," I whisper.

* * *

><p>I can hear the din of noise from the front hall. "Relax, sweetheart," Haymitch says to my ear. "Most of them are here for the free food and to shake your hand for the cameras. You won't have time for a conversation with anyone."<p>

"Unless you want to," Effie smiles, pinching my upper arm as a reminder. "Remember, four bars on a military uniform means a higher ranking officer, so don't bother with three or less. If someone has gold coat buttons it means they're in the right society, but you'll want to stop for a chat with platinum buttons."

"What's platinum look like?"

"Highly polished white gold."

"Like silver?"

"Oh dear," Effie says worried. "Maybe I should stick by you. If you can't tell silver from platinum you could end up talking to a server."

Haymitch takes my elbow away from Effie. "She'll be fine, Trinket," he says harshly. "Doesn't need to talk to any of those stuffed shirts anyway." He looks down at me. He drops his voice. "Don't linger with anyone, Katniss." His tone is demanding. "Just say hello, politely answer three questions then excuse yourself and move on."

Before I can ask why he's saying this an attendant interrupts us.

"Ms. Trinket, Mr. Abernathy, you'll go first," he says, checking off a clipboard and shooing them towards an archway where guests are being announced as they enter. The attendant looks over my shoulder. "Ah! Mr. Crane! Just in time, you'll follow Mr. Abernathy."

I look over my shoulder to see Seneca Crane gliding in. His beard is trimmed into a cube that seems to sit on his chin like it was glued there. I'd laugh if I didn't hate him so. I can feel Rue's blood on my hands when I look at him.

He smiles proudly as he steps forward to me. "Miss Everdeen," he coos. My skin crawls. He takes my hand and kisses it. His beard scratches at my skin. He takes a step back to examine my dress. The flat silver ballet slippers. My jewelry-free neck and ears. A lone pink diamond on my right index finger. His smile lessens.

"I had expected more from Cinna," he says, raising his eyebrows. "I thought you'd surely arrive in flames."

"I chose this one," I defy him. "I wanted to look like myself."

"And you do," he says, pursing his lips in disappointment. He shakes his head. "No matter. Plenty of people are dying to meet you. I'm sure if they've seen you in the Arena they won't mind…this."

"Mr. Crane!" The attendant is at his side, urging him towards to door. I hear the caller announce Effie and Haymitch and a boom of applause as they enter the grand ballroom.

"See you on the inside," Crane laughs, as though we shared this joke, striding down the red carpet away from me towards his grand entrance.

"Miss Everdeen, you're next," the attendant is back for me.

I nod at the young man and watch him turn back to the door. I wonder how old he is. My age? Gale's? He wears a ridiculous uniform, puffed shorts striped with bizarre color combinations over pants so tight I can see his calf muscles. They're more like the stockings my mother would make me wear under my clothes in winter. His jacket has a million colorful panels to it, and a large feather is sewn into his hair. His life must be incredibly different than mine.

"All right, you can go ahead," he says, gesturing towards the door.

"Thank you, um…" I look at his name tag. "Quarry. Thank you, Quarry."

He looks at me, confused. "What?"

"Thank you, Quarry," I smile at him. He looks at his name tag and sees I've read it. He gives me a small, distracted smile of appreciation. I walk to the entrance archway.

"And now!" The caller yells out to get the crowd to hush. "Please welcome…the Victor of the seventy-fourth annual…..Hunger Games…..Miss. Katniss. Everdeen!"

A loud cheer rings out as I step onto the landing. Flashbulbs blind me as photographers swarm the pad. I try to smile and wave, but the light hurts my eyes and I bring a hand over them to shield my face.

"All right, all right."

The soft, insidious voice calling over the crowd chills me to the bone.

"I think we should let our Victor enter her own party, should we not?"

The blinding light ceases immediately and I can see him. President Snow. Standing at the musician's stage at the front of the room.

He smiles at me and my hands go ice cold. I nod an obligatory and fearful thank you and the crowd disperses to let me enter. A gentle hum begins to grow as the conversation comes back to life. Snow turns away to address an attendant at his side and I am able to breathe again.

"Katniss!" Venia squeals as she appears to hug me. "You look lovely. I wish we'd had time to re-do your hair. I had a lovely wooden sculpture to braid into it."

"Oh, well," I hedge. "You know how tight these schedules can run. And you did such an exquisite job with the curls this morning, I'm glad I can show them off again."

She grins. "I guess I can always try something for your Victory Tour!"

I nod and my heart sinks. I hadn't remembered the Tour until now.

"Katniss! Over here!"

I'm pulled right and left. The faces and names blur in my eyes and ears. I'm exhausted despite Cinna's remedy, but I expect it's more the fear and boredom eating away at me. I pick at the beautiful dishes, but it's all tasteless to me. I want to be home, eating my mother's duck stew. Sitting on the hearth with Prim, chewing on mint leaves and telling her the terrible jokes Gale shares with me.

The hour is very late when Effie appears at my side and pinches my arm. "Katniss…someone would like to meet you," she purrs. I look at her. She's smiling but something's not quite right.

"Who?"

"He's very well connected in the gem industry," she leans in to whisper. "He has four houses in this city alone." Her hand on my back turns me around. She pushes me a few steps forward nearly right onto a man in a pristine suit flanked by two equally unpleasant associates.

"Miss Everdeen," he bows. I take him in before replying. He's nearly a foot taller than me and probably four times as wide. Heavy braided sashes crisscross his suit jacket and he has decorations along the lapels, appearing to be from service to the Capital. His associates are similarly dressed, although less decorated. "I'm Lucite Carvelle. It's an absolute _pleasure_ to make your acquaintance."

Bile rises in my stomach as I see his eyes drop to the dip in my sweetheart neckline.

"Sir," I curtsy. "I understand you are in gem mining."

"Well, I suppose you could say that," he guffaws. His laugh sprays the stale odor of liquor and spittle onto his bushy mustache and I stifle a gag. His friends laugh with him. The tall, muscular man with dark eyes and heavy eyebrows claps a hand on Carvelle's shoulder. His eyes are me.

"I own the emerald mine in One," Carvelle recovers. His self-importance is nauseating. "My family has for generations. We supply the Capital – the president – with all he needs."

"That must be very interesting," I offer lamely.

"I suppose," Carvelle smiles. He steps closer to me. "Although I find there are many, _many_ more interesting things to occupy my time."

I try to laugh politely. "I imagine so. Well, I should-"

"Would you join us for a drink in the guest hall?" The stringy man with pale skin and nearly invisible lips steps forward eagerly, moving in front of Carvelle and nearly stepping on my toes as he advances.

"Seamus!" Carvelle's bark is terrifying. The thin man shrinks back, stepping behind his large superior. Carvelle turns back to me. His eyes are dark.

"My apologies. Seamus is not used to etiquette in entertaining Victors," he smiles without mirth. "You will join us?"

I can't tell if it's a question or a statement.

"All three of you?" Effie asks from over my shoulder. I look over at her. She looks uncharacteristically concerned.

"With Miss Everdeen here for only one night, we thought we might…maximize our use of her time," Carvelle again smiles darkly.

"Oh, of course," Effie breathes. "Well, she would have to powder her nose! Would you excuse us just one minute?"

Effie pulls me gently over to a doorway just inside the entrance archway. A sign has been placed in front reading "Ladies' Lounge." We step inside.

I've never seen most of what is happening inside. There are lines of pink and purple powders are lined up on the counter and women in garish and outstanding outfits are snorting it through clear glass straws. I can hear another woman vomiting in a stall with a brushed gold door and a woman is seated on the floor crying, a friend mopping make-up from her face while she sobs.

"Effie, what's happening?" I spin. "What do they want? I have nothing to talk about with them and I don't want to drink."

"They don't walk to talk," Effie says sharply, reaching in her purse and pulling out a green and orange vial. She opens the cork and lets a small blue pill fall into her hand. "Take this." She holds it out to me, pinched between her thumb and index finger.

"What? Why?"

"It'll keep you from getting pregnant."

I stare at her. I look at the pill.

"Why would I need that?"

She looks at me. Her look of concern at my confusion makes my heart miss a beat.

"No," I whisper. "No, no, no."

"Katniss, he's well connected and friends with the President. You need to go with him. He could make you a very rich woman."

"No!" I shout at her. A few women turn from the counter to look at me.

Effie laughs a polite laugh and waves them off. She pulls me into a stall around the corner, slamming the brushed gold door shut and turning the lock. The vomiting woman covers our conversation.

"Katniss. This is what Victors do."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. How do you think Finnick stays so wealthy? How do you think Cashmere wears diamonds in her hair? The winnings may seem grand now, but you can have so much more. More than your wildest dreams."

I stare at her. It's as though she's speaking a different language. "I'm not having sex with that man."

"His friends aren't so unattractive. The dark one is very sharp."

My legs are shaking. I sit down on the toilet. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," Effie kneels down. "Most of the tributes I've coached do it even before the Games. How do you think Twelve gets any sponsors at all? You were very lucky this year that you were interesting. I have no idea who sent you those antibiotics when you fell ill, but I can tell you those gifts usually come from an agreement like this." She digs in her sequined and feathered bag and finds a vial of blue glass. "Here. If you drink this you'll barely feel anything. It lasts about an hour."

"I'm a virgin."

She stares at the vial in her hand. She opens her mouth and closes it again. She finally drags her eyes up to mine. She tries to find the words again. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I didn't know that."

"I can't do this."

She doesn't speak for a moment. "Maybe…maybe I can see if just one…"

The shaking is getting worse. "Effie-"

She puts her soft hand on my shoulder. "Katniss, it'll be okay. It won't be very long. He'll pay very handsomely for your first time. You could buy a herd of goats for your sister," she suggests cheerfully.

I think of Prim. She would ask where they all came from. I stand up. "No."

"Katniss, he's too well connected. You shouldn't – you can't say no. Refusing will hurt you worse than you think. You have a reputation to uphold now. You'll need to line up sponsors for next-"

"I'm leaving."

She tries to grab my arm, to beg me not to risk my future for this, but I get the stall lock open and pull away. I run through the flock of women in the lounge and to the door.

It's only feet to the entrance archway. If I can get outside, I can get to a car. I can tell the driver I'm sick. I just have to get past the Peacekeepers at the front door. And at the Gate. And the Training Center. I probably won't make it. I wonder if dying is worth it. It seems to be right now. I make a dash for the entrance door.

"Oh, Miss Everdeen!" A familiar youthful voice calls me to from the party.

A Peacekeeper suddenly steps in front of me from nowhere. He must have been hidden behind the great ferns along the entranceway. He eyes me, his fingers tightening on his gun. He blocks my escape, eyebrow raised disdainfully.

I'm trapped. I feel something dying inside me.

I turn around. I can see Lucite Carvelle watching me from twenty feet away. He licks his lips.

"Miss Everdeen, I was looking for you," Quarry says breathlessly as he elbows his way through the crowd to me. "Someone wants to meet you."

"I've met Mr. Carvelle," I say blankly.

"No, no, not him. Someone important," Quarry says. "Oh, not that Mr. Carvelle is…wait, no. I mean that…oh."

"Quarry, you need to work on your adjectives," a new voice laughs over my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't at all mean to imply anything," Quarry stammers to the young man who's joined us.

"No, no," the youth smiles, "it was funny. And Carvelle isn't nearly as important as he thinks," he adds conspiratorially to me. "That emerald mine is old news. I'm surprised it hasn't gone dry yet." He turns back to Quarry. "Have you had your break?"

"No, sir."  
>"You should take it. I saw Sae was making those cream puffs for your team tonight."<p>

"Thank you, sir. Very good," Quarry smiles with relief. He nods to me then offers a friendly wave as he exits the ballroom.

I watch him go. I can feel the young man's eyes on me. I turn back to him with anxiety squeezing my lungs.

His hair is blonder than Prim's. It must have been white as goose down when he was born. His eyes lashes are dark, though. They frame the bluest eyes I've ever seen. He's not too much taller than me, but I can see he's had a far easier life. Even without a polish his skin is flawless. There's something vaguely familiar about him all the same. I try to remember where I've seen him before.

"I'm Peeta," he smiles, extending his hand to me. I eye it before slowly taking it.

"I'm-"

"Katniss! Oh!" Effie stumbles out of the lounge next to us. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." She demurs quickly.

"Ms. Trinket, it's so good to see you again. I'm very glad you have a winning Tribute this year. You must be very proud."

Effie flushes with gratitude. "Yes, sir. Katniss did surprise us all, didn't she?"

"She did. All surprises," he agrees, glancing sideways at me. "And please call me Peeta," he beams at Effie.

Effie laughs graciously. "Oh, Peeta, you are a dove." She clears her throat. "Um, Katniss, I'll just go let Mr. Carvelle know you are far too occupied for a private conversation."

I could kiss her as she sweeps away. I peek around Peeta's arm to watch Carvelle's face. It turns red with anger. I glance up to see Peeta is watching me with curiosity. He turns around to see what I'm looking at. I gulp. He smiles and waves at Carvelle. Carvelle contains himself, bows slightly across the distance. Peeta waves him over.

My brief sanctuary from terror is over. I wonder if I've missed the opportunity to dismiss this man and move away.

"Carvelle," Peeta bows as the three objects of my loathing join us. "How is your wife? And children?"

"Very well, thank you," Carvelle says. His words are clipped but I can see he has to be polite.

"The mine business is tricky, isn't it?" Peeta teases. I think he's having fun with Carvelle. "I heard some terrible rumors that emerald exports were dwindling. I hope that's not true."

A vein along Carvelle's jaw twitches. "I should hope not, sir."

"Well, I won't keep you. I'm sure you have much to do this evening." He turns to me. "May I trouble you for a dance?"

I look at Carvelle. I can see Peeta has won.

"Yes, thank you," I say, but inside I want to scream.

I let him take my hand and lead me away through the cluster of cocktail tables littering the floor. His hand is warm. I glance over my shoulder to see Carvelle stomping out the door.

I let him spin me into his embrace and he's pleased at my surprise when I'm suddenly face to face with him.

"I don't really know how to dance," I squirm as I feel his hand on the small of my back.

"Don't worry, I'm a terrible dancer. I'm just going to move in a circle and hope no one notices."

He's lying, I can feel how smoothly he leads, but I am grateful he's not faulting my awkward feet.

"Stop looking at your feet," he whispers. I look up. "Just look at me."

I do. I look at him while I feel his hand on mine, his hand on my back, the feel of his suit jacket under my palm, and the pinch of my shoes. He smells like fresh rain. His face is handsome. I try to relax.

"So…" he laughs. "I don't really know what to say," he confesses. "I feel like I know you. All those televised days in the Arena and your family's interview. I don't know what to talk about."

"Oh," I say. "Well, we could talk about you."

"That's even more boring," he smiles. "Let's talk about something interesting. What do you find interesting?"

We slowly circle the floor while I think.

"Ummm. I'm interested in…" I try to find a way not to say _illegal poaching_. I think of Prim. "Plants."

"Really?"

"Yes. Plants."

"Caring for them? Studying them? Genetic modification?"

"I guess studying."

"Oh yes! Your mother uses plants as medicine. Do you help her?"

"Sort of. She's a better caregiver than I."

"Oh, I don't know about that." His eyes soften. "When the girl from Eleven was burned…you helped her."

My body stiffens. "I just had the medicine. She had the remedy for the venom. It was a simple trade."

He shrugs. "I suppose."

We move in silence for a bit.

"Those yellow flowers were beautiful," he says very quietly. "Yellow is my favorite color for flowers. Do you know what they're called?"

"No," I reply tensely. "I'm sorry."

"They're called euphorbia."

"Oh." It seems a strange name. As though it should be happy; should be euphoria, but couldn't quite make it. "Do you know plants?" I ask awkwardly.

"Not well. I paint them sometimes, but this time…I looked them up. I wanted to know." He's watching me carefully.

I don't know why this conversation feels dangerous, but it does. For both of us. I look for an exit.

"You're named after a flower," he says, changing the tone and spinning me around.

"Yes, the Katniss flower," I say, tripping as I regain my footing. His strong hands catch me.

"Flourishes near water and rich, green soil," he recites. "Latin _Sagittaria_, meaning belonging to an arrow."

Our feet still for a second as I'm caught off guard.

"I wanted to know that too," he says. A slight blush is on his cheeks. It feels more dangerous now. I'm less certain I can shake him off.

"Would you like to take a tour of the mansion?"

"Of this house?" I stammer out. "We shouldn't. It's the President's private home." In my panic my eyes search for Cinna or Haymitch. Even Effie.

"I'm sure he won't mind," he says, giving me a funny look. "In fact, I insist. There's a conservatory with rare plants. You'd love it."

He takes my hand again and leads me off the dance floor, slipping in and out of the guests. My pulse thuds against my chest. I thought I was safe. I wish I'd taken the pill Effie had offered me.

We reach the archway and the Peacekeeper guarding the entrance nods at Peeta without batting an eye. I realize he must be very important to not even need permission to drag a Victor from her own party. I glance over my shoulder and I see Effie watching me. I try to show her I need help, but she gives me a slight wave, a faint smile to let me know she'll be waiting for me when I return. I wish I knew where Haymitch was. I wish he was here to stop this.

My feet don't want to cooperate as Peeta drags me down the grand hall peppered with attendants. He knows most of their names and they smile at him as they eye me: the prize on his arm. The Capital is always the real Victor.

The lights of the grand hall were dimmed for the party, but when he pushes open the heavy double doors just inside the front door, the long hallway into which he leads me is dark. The solid doors close behind us with an echoing thud, isolating us. Blue moonlight spills across the polished floor from tall, narrow windows. The path stretches long before us, hundreds of feet. Dozens of heavy wooden doors.

"It's just this way," his voice drifts from beside my ear. I feel his hand find mine again and he pulls me along. He feels my resistance. "You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" His teasing is no longer endearing. I briefly debate kicking his knee and running. But what will be waiting for me outside the hallway doors if I do?

"No," I whisper.

"Come on."

I let him lead me numbly down the corridor, the light growing dimmer with each step.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," I croak.

"You're so quiet."

I debate telling him he shouldn't do this to me. But I can't bring myself to show vulnerability. I'm too angry this is happening after I fought so hard to survive. I want to be defiant and strong. "I'm fine." I grit my teeth. I should have taken that numbing serum.

"Here it is."

The proximity of his echo tells me a door is in front of us. He releases my hand and fumbles with the knob. He pushes on the door.

I have to gasp. It's absolutely beautiful.

The starlight shines down on plants I never dreamed could exist. Petals larger than my hands that curl out like a dancer's arms. I let my mouth hang open when I see the vines with phosphorescent leaves. The whole garden seems to glow on its own, bathing itself in soften golden light. I'm so stunned and confused that I forget to be frightened.

He laughs quietly next to me. "I told you you'd like it," he whispers. He shoves his hands in his pockets and strolls down the molded iron steps into the thick of the flora. I stand at the top of the stairs, unwilling to blink lest I miss any detail. The air is ripe with perfumes. I let my head drop back and inhale deeply. I feel drunk at the mixture of aromas.

When I open my eyes the stars watch me. I take in the expansive glass ceiling that stretches over the conservatory. This room could be almost as large as the ballroom.

"Pollux? Pollux! Are you here?" Peeta's cries startle me. He looks over his shoulder at me. "I think the botanist will be here; he likes to visit the roses at night."

We're not alone, I realize. This could be a good or bad thing, I know, but I latch onto the information hopefully as though it's a sole life preserver in a black ocean.

I scan the room and then I see them. Rows of roses. Row upon row. Stretching from one end of the hothouse to the other. I think of the ever-present rose in President Snow's lapels. I retch at the smell.

A shuffling noise from my right turns me on my heel. A man not so much older than me or Peeta steps out from the shadows.

"Pollux!" Peeta stretches out and shakes the botanist's hand. "Have you met Katniss Everdeen? She's our Victor."

"How do you do?" I curtsy and nod to the botanist. He doesn't speak, but he nods and points at Peeta and then a row far back into the greenhouse.

"Are they ready?" Peeta asks eagerly. Pollux nods and swallows strangely. "Show me."

_Avox_, my brain says. _Servant._ I would not be shared with him.

Pollux leads us to the end of the row and turns left. As we follow, I realize Peeta must be here very often to know the staff so intimately. I wonder if he's the son of a cabinet member. He's dressed too well to be a housekeeper's child; commands too much respect from elders to belong to an inconsequential family. My mind conjures a memory of him on television once before with the Secretary of Agriculture. We climb a short set of stairs up to a platform resting against the glass wall. He clicks on a sunlamp over the manmade flower bed below.

Yellow explodes in front of my eyes. I have to blink a few times.

"Are those…dandelions?"

"Yeah!" Peeta answers excitedly. He kneels down and presses his nose to the blossoms. "They don't grow here anymore. Pollux was able to find some seeds to cultivate them again."

"But," I'm unable to hold my tongue. "They're weeds." Peeta looks confused. "I mean, they are wonderful," I stammer. "But they aren't really flowers. Not like…roses."

Peeta drops his gaze. His eyes find the flowers. I look over at Pollux. I can't read his expression.

"They're lovely," I try to back pedal, suddenly aware of how critical my words sound.

"It's okay," Peeta shakes me off. "I just…like them. It's weird, I know." He stands up. "My mother liked them. They make me think of her."

"I'm sorry," I whisper helplessly. I don't know what to do now. I wonder if I've misjudged this man entirely. I was terrified of him he wanted me ten minutes ago; now I'm terrified I've insulted him.

"No, don't be. Thank you, Pollux," Peeta gives the botanist another smile. "They're beautiful."

Pollux nods and bows, excusing himself with a gesture to a watering can and heading out to the rows of rosebushes. Peeta picks a single yellow blossom. He admires it lovingly, turning it between his fingers to look at the stem cupping the hundreds of little yellow tongues. He gently tucks it into his lapel buttonhole. He steps down from the dandelion bed platform and meanders over to a cluster of black and purple striped leaves that seem to hum slightly.

"I've eaten dandelions," I blurt out desperately. "They make great salad greens. And tea."

He turns and raises an eyebrow. "You ate a weed?" I nod. "Why would you eat them?"

I swallow hard. "I was hungry."

He looks as though he wants to smile, like I might be joking, but thinks better of it. "Hungry?" I nod. "You must have been very hungry."

I nod again.

He looks at the purple and black leaves. "You were starving?" he asks them.

I can't answer that. I look away. I wish the plants would hum louder.

"Dandelions grow in the meadow in my neighborhood in Twelve," I say, hoping he'll let me change the subject. "It's like a sea of yellow on the first day of spring. You want to swim through them."

He reaches out and strokes a leaf. It curls gently around his finger and holds it. "I wish I could see that."

"You've never been to Twelve?"

He looks over at me. His expression is forlorn. "I've never left the Capital."

"Oh." I don't know why, but his answer makes me pity him. I suppose it's not so strange, there's no draw to my home. But I always assumed Capital citizens were allowed to travel as they pleased. "This is my first time out of my District," I tell him.

"Do you like it here?"

"It's very different," I say, reciting my rehearsed speech. "It's so glamorous and everyone is so original."

"So no?" He catches me off guard.

"No! I mean, I…"

"It's not home, is it?" The leaf releases his finger.

I don't answer.

"I've always wanted to see Twelve."

"Why?" I ask before I can stop myself. "I mean, it's nothing special."

He sighs and leans against the bed of humming flowers. "Everything is special compared to here." He sees my expression and laughs dryly. "If you had to live here, you'd get tired of the feathers and emeralds and drinks and parties very quickly."

I consider it for a moment. "It could be…a little much," I venture.

"A lot much," he smiles. He pats the low wall next to him and I obediently step over to lean against it. "You don't have to be so cautious here. There aren't any cameras."

I jerk my eyes up to him. "What?"

He points to the ceiling. "You see those little spigots? They shorted out the cameras when we installed the automatic sprinklers and we never fixed them. The plastics factory in Eight making the protective covers was damaged in a fire." He looks back to me. "So you can say whatever you want. I promise I won't tell."

I don't believe him. He senses my trepidation.

"I hate everyone in that ballroom," he calls into the night air.

I tense up and look around sharply. I wait for Peacekeepers to burst through the door and discover us. Nothing happens.

"These receptions are a huge waste of time and money!" he yells at the glass sky.

I stand up and grip his arm. "Stop it! You'll get yourself killed!" I release him and look right and left, wondering where to run when the guards arrive.

He stops smirking and looks at me strangely again. "You really think that?"

"I've seen worse," I hiss. "You've never left here, you don't know what it's like outside."

"What is it like?" he leans in eagerly, his eyes narrowing on mine.

"No, I don't want to talk about this," I say, stepping backwards. I look back to the ceiling and walls, looking for a hidden camera to betray me.

"I'm sorry," he says, standing up. "I'm spoiling your evening."

"It's fine," I mutter. "I wasn't having much fun."

He eyes me for a moment, as though he wants to ask more but decides against it. He slips away and wanders over to the beginning of dozens of rows of thorny bushes. They stretch the length of the conservatory. He pulls at a leaf.

"They really are a waste, then."

"What?"

"These parties," he says, jerking his head back to the door. "If no one has fun, what's the point?"

"It's just me," I sigh. "I don't really go to parties at home. Well, no one has them. It seems like plenty of people in there are having a good time."

He scoffs and snaps the leaf off the rosebush and throws it over his shoulder. "Plenty of those people are idiots."

I cover my involuntary smile. I mumble an embarrassed apology and try to wipe the smirk off my face.

"You know I've always hated roses?"

_Me too_, I think. "Why?"

"Ugh, they're just so…they have that cloying smell. I know they're all the rage here but they're awful." He pulls one off a rosebush and picks at the petals in his hand. He rests a few petals in his palm and blows it at me. I turn my head in surprise and they brush my cheek. I touch my face and try not to smile again. We're getting dangerously familiar with one another.

"You know what's better?" he asks.

"Dandelions?" I tease.

He bites his bottom lip as he pouts at me. He shakes the rest of the torn flower over my head and petals rain down over me. I dart away, yanking petals from my hair. He advances and I grab my own bud from the adjacent rosebush and hold it up as though it's a weapon.

We taunt one another with the petals and he tries to throw a handful at me. I duck and hit him on the chin with the whole blossom. He disappears for a moment in a cloud of petals. I fear I've gone too far, but when I see his face again, he's spitting a petal from his mouth and I can't stop my giggle at this young man in a fine suit coughing up flower petals.

"Oh is that funny?"

"Yes!" I laugh.

"They taste awful," he spits.

"I told you dandelions are better." He gives me a laugh and then grabs a fistful of blossoms off the bush. I take off running as he chases me down the row, tossing rosebuds at me and missing purposefully. He stops chasing me when I reach the end of the row and whip around, snatching up a half-filled watering can. He holds up his hands.

"I surrender!" he tells me.

"Put down the rosebuds and nobody gets hurt," I laugh. He drops the three in his palm and lowers his hands slowly. I put the watering can back down on the ground and stand facing him smiling. He laughs a little and we look at one another for a quiet moment. No one has come to bother us.

I feel brave and daring, drunk on the flowers and company. "I think…you're a bit of a surprise too," I tell him. He's not what I expected of a Capital dignitary, no matter how young. I'm glad.

The door through which we entered bangs open violently.

"Sir? Are you in here?"

Peeta sighs loudly, dropping his head with exasperation. "Yes, Quarry. We're both here."

Quarry runs down the rows, looking for us, but he misjudges by four rows and is quickly lost among the plants. Peeta stifles a laugh and sneaks back over to me. He presses his fingers to his lips and reaches out to catch my fingers. We tiptoe to the end of the row.

"Over here, Quarry!" Peeta calls, as he covers his mouth to laugh as we run to the next row and duck behind a topiary. "Can you see us?"

I motion for him to follow, spin and run three-quarters down another row as Quarry sputters and calls for us.

"Sir, I'm going to get into trouble!"

Peeta sighs and stands up. "All right, all right. Sorry. Just having a bit of fun. For once," he adds quietly. He turns to me. "Sorry to keep you from your celebration." Quarry is breathless when he catches up with us a moment later. "I'm sure you're needed for a toast or something," Peeta adds, turning to Quarry.

"No, actually…" Quarry hesitates. "Your absence was noted, young sir."

Peeta blinks slowly and tilts his head as he curses. "It was ten minutes, for crying out loud." He sighs again. "We're coming back."

"I'm to escort you back personally," Quarry responds nervously. I'm watching Peeta grow unhappier by the minute. He sets his eyes hard on Quarry.

"Fine. Let's go," he says to either of us. Maybe neither.

He storms down the row of plants to the door back into the mansion. He's moving so quickly he's nearly thirty paces in front of me before I can catch up. He bangs open the wooden door and steps inside. It swings closed before Quarry and I reach it.

"Sorry, miss," Quarry murmurs. "The following tends to bother him, but…what can you do?" He pulls open the door and the golden light from the glowing plants spills into the dark hallway inside. He steps to the side to let me in first.

I walk inside and stop. The painting faces the door to the conservatory and it's as though her kind blue eyes are watching those entering and leaving the garden. Her white gold hair falls in waves over her shoulders and the glamorous dress she wears is nearly obscured for the enormous bundle of dandelions she holds in her arms. She's laughing, her mouth slightly open and her expression is full of joy. I know her face.

I feel Peeta return to my side. Quarry holds the door to let in the light as he sees me examine the painting.

"Is this…is that First Lady Amaranth?" I ask, unable to tear my eyes away.

"Yeah," Peeta whispers as he looks up at her.

The late wife of President Snow. A rare beauty plucked from District Six when she was nineteen. I heard the tale as a bit of a horror story. I wasn't sure what was true, but I could imagine it was awful no matter what.

Her brother had been a Tribute, smart and brave and strong. He lasted until the final eight. When she was interviewed by the camera crews visiting her home, her face shone with love as she spoke of the little brother she helped raise. Those watching in Twelve still spoke of her radiance. When her brother died the very next day, the country grieved for Amaranth.

But one person took a stronger interest in her well-being. A hovercraft arrived for her that evening. She was in Snow's charge by nightfall.

The wedding was mandatory viewing, televised for all to see. Katniss' mother had wept for Amaranth as she saw the girl in her long white gown, the guards in the rows standing by her family from Six. Her hands were visibly shaking when Snow put the ring on her small finger. Her vows were broken with tears. When she died three years ago, it was rumored to be at her own hand.

"I painted that from memory," Peeta's murmur cuts in to my memory. "For her birthday this year."

"Young Master Snow, we really should get back," Quarry whispers. "Your father insisted."

I quell the scream that threatens to escape my throat. I now know from where I recognize his face. The cherubic child's face that would appear next to Snow during televised political announcements. In the background at each presentation of the Tributes. Photographed by Capital paparazzi leaving a party with Finnick Odair.

The only child of the late Lady Amaranth and Alistair Snow.

My knees buckle and I nearly fall.

"Are you all right?" Peeta darts forward and catches me, pulling me back up. "Watch out, they just polished this floor. Guests fall all the time."

"I'm okay," I whisper, shaking all over. "I'm okay."

"All right," he says. "We better go."

I follow him back down the dark hallway, Quarry at my heels like a puppy. I stand far enough away to make sure Peeta cannot take my hand again. I'm sweating and I can barely breathe. How long was I with him? What have I said? What have I done that could betray my family? My friends? I'm so terrified I can barely remember the last fifteen minutes of my life. I nearly run through the heavy double doors when we get back to the grand hall, bursting into the light from darkness like a cork.

I spot Haymitch immediately. He's yelling at an attendant, his face red with spots of perspiration standing out on his forehead. "What do you mean you don't know? It's her party, dammit, you should know where she is!"

"Haymitch!" I call out, hurrying over to him. "I'm right here."

He spins to me. "Where the hell have you been? You had me worried sick, this night is about you-" He stops, looking past me.

I know he's seen Peeta. "He took me for a walk," I say. "To see their gardens." His eyes dart back to me. "Just the gardens," I insist softly.

"It was entirely my fault, Mr. Abernathy," Peeta says, stepping forward. "I didn't give her a chance to excuse herself. Please lay the blame on me."

"It's fine, it's fine," Haymitch says gruffly. "Just…worried. She's young. And all."

Peeta nods in agreement. "I should have told you, you are her Mentor."

Haymitch shakes his head again, trying to deflect the awkwardness of this meeting.

"Well, I have to go check in with my father," Peeta said, turning back to me with a sad smile. "Thank you for letting me show you the conservatory. I wish I could see your dandelion meadow."

"Maybe you will someday," I say politely.

"Maybe," he smiles. "Um. Well. To the Victor go the spoils." He pulls the dandelion from his lapel and hands it to me. "Goodbye, Katniss."

I hold the stem in my hands as he walks away into the ballroom, Effie comes out, her face flushed.

"Katniss!" Her voice is a strained whisper. Her grin stretches across her face. "The president's son! You are quite a surprise, aren't you?"

Haymitch turns into me, shouldering her away from me. "He didn't….Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say. "He just wanted show me around. Nothing happened."

Effie looks genuinely disappointed. "Oh. Well, still," she recovers, "he did offer you a tour. I've not heard of that before."

"Come on, it's nearly three in the morning," Haymitch says. "You have an interview at ten and lunch with your prep team. Then you need to be ready to go home."

Home. I close my eyes and let the warmth of the thought radiate through me.

"Let's go," I tell my dandelion.

* * *

><p>Caesar ticks off questions I'm tired of answering. How did I feel about winning? What did I most look forward to when going home? What would I like to say to Tate's family? They tried so hard to make it look like we were friends, but I'd barely said three words to him in my entire life in Twelve. Coming to the Capital was the first time we'd really spoken. And he wasn't interested in training with me or prepping for interviews together, so it's hard to say how I felt when he died. Relief it wasn't by my hand, I suppose.<p>

Finally Caesar congratulates me and gives me a warm hug. The cameras click off and I'm done. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I run back to my room at the Training Center. I laugh out loud when I see Cinna has had my Avox set out plain black pants, a pale green henley pullover and black hunting books. I hurry to the sink in the bathroom and blast the hot water.

I scrub off the neutral makeup Octavia carefully applied this morning. My long black eyelashes disappear in the soap and water and my short brown eyelashes appear. My berry red lips fade to pale pink. I blot my face and wipe steam from the mirror. I recognize the face in the mirror.

I pull my hair out of the elegant twist Venia created and let it tumble down my back as I unzip the shift dress covered with little blue flowers. I let it fall to the floor and step out of it, abandoning my navy blue pumps along with it. I yank on the pants and shirt and shivers of joy thrill down my back. I pull the boots over the pants and zip them up eagerly. I stand up and look at myself in the mirror while I pull my hair into a braid, tying it with a ribbon from the dresser.

I look down at the dresser. I'll never see it again. I'll never see that bunk, that bathroom, those nightclothes. It feels wonderful.

A knock at my door tells me Effie has arrived. "Katniss! Lunch!"

She's taken aback when I open the door with zeal and hug her. "Let's eat!" She laughs at my energy as I run down the hall to the dining room. Haymitch raises his eyebrows as I burst in to the room, laughing wildly.

"I guess you handle late nights better when you're young," he grumbles, rubbing his temples.

"Katniss!" Cinna enters with his prep team dabbing their eyes. He hugs me and he pulls back to examine me, unmade up and in clothes I would choose on my own. "You look great."

"Thanks."

"I can't believe you're leaving already," Flavius weeps. "It seems like we just met you."

"You'll see me again, I'm sure," I grit my teeth. "There's the Victory Tour in six months."

"And when you mentor next year," Venia chirps happily, seating herself at the table.

I'm staring at her when Haymitch coughs and pokes me in the ribs. I remember myself and sit down. I'd forgotten. I'll join Haymitch next year to watch children from Twelve die.

I try to put it out of my mind as we begin our feast. Effie had ordered tureens of lamb stew and plums and oranges litter the table. I spy a carafe of hot chocolate. I finish half of it before I start to feel like myself again.

"Katniss," Octavia drops her voice. "Is it true you spoke with Peeta Snow?"

"Oh," I cough out my mouthful of cocoa. "Um. Yes." I glance around the table. All eyes are on me. "He showed me their gardens. In the conservatory."

Even Cinna's eyebrows are raised.

"What did you talk about?" Venia drops her spoon to focus entirely on my words.

"Um. Nothing, really. Dandelions."

"What's a dandelion?" Venia asks.

"It's actually," I laugh, "a weed. It's a little yellow flower and in the fall they turn into these white puffballs. The seeds are carried away on the puffs on the breeze."

"Why did you talk about that?" Effie looks appalled.

"He likes them," I protest. "He said they remind him of his mother."

The room falls silent after that. Cinna graciously changes the subject. A soft knock at the door is nearly missed as we laugh at Venia's story of her first attempt to iron curly hair. She's telling us how much of the charred hair she had to cut away when the knock comes again.

"Who is it?" Effie sings out jovially.

The door cracks open and a sweet-faced woman with tight black corkscrews pokes her head in. "So sorry to interrupt. Sounds like you're having a wonderful time," she smiles, revealing a merry gap between her two front teeth.

"Not at all, Portia!" Effie calls. "Come on in."

I look at the table. Venia, Octavia and Flavius don't seem to know her, but Cinna and Haymitch are clearly playing at a being pleased to see her.

"Miss Everdeen," the woman says as she steps inside our dining car. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Portia, Mr. Snow's personal assistant."

The fear grips me like a fist around my throat. "The president sent you?"

"Oh, no," she laughs. "I'm Peeta's assistant."

The strangling sensation abates only slightly. Portia takes no notice of my blood-drained face. "If your schedule allows, he'd like to see you off at the train station this afternoon."

I look over at Haymitch. He meets my eyes but cannot offer me any advice in present company. It doesn't matter. I can't refuse.

"That would be great," I say, my voice cracking.

"Okay. Great!" Portia grins. "I'll have him to the loading platform at 3pm. Bye Effie!" She wiggles her fingers at Effie and gently closes the door behind her.

"Katniss!" squeals Octavia. Venia stomps her feet on the ground and Flavius fans himself with his napkin. "Peeta Snow is coming to say goodbye to you. To you!"

"Yeah," I force a smile.

"Oh Katniss," Effie smiles. "Don't be nervous. You didn't make such a terrible impression after all! He clearly likes you if he's coming back after last night."

"Yes. Of course," I mumble, glancing over at Cinna and Haymitch, who seem to share my discomfort.

I try to maintain conversation but my mouth has gone dry. I let the others pick up my slack and chew my stew slowly. Haymitch notices my silence and leans over to my ear.

"It's just goodbye. It's probably nothing."

I nod, hoping he's right.

* * *

><p>There's a crowd gathered to watch me leave, but they're cordoned off from coming too close to the track. I stand on the back car, leaning on the railing and waving. I glance at the clock on the train station wall. It's nearly three. I cross my fingers behind my back that he won't be able to make it, that the train will leave without my having to face him again. The minute hand moves another tick. My heart grows lighter.<p>

The crowd jostles a bit and parts and I see him apologizing to shocked faces as he and Portia push through. I drop my hand.

"Katniss!" he calls as he runs to the platform just below where I stand. He tries to catch his breath. "I'm so sorry…had to…slip out." He grins. "Permission to come aboard?"

I'm at a loss for words, so I just nod. He and Portia walk to the door midway along the car and the porter opens it for them.

I glance back at the crowd and wave with a weak smile. I turn and walk back inside the car, closing the door behind me. I watch him hop up the last step into the train with dread.

"Hey," he says as he spies me.

"Hello," I say with as much cheer as I can muster.

He looks like he wants to speak, but he glances over at Portia first. "Um, Portia. Could I have a minute?"

She looks at him sadly and then me. "You know I can't do that, Peeta. Why do you always ask?"

"Fine, fine," he grumbles. "Can you…go over to the window at least? Pretend you're not listening?"

She smiles. "Okay. But don't keep her. She's trying to get home, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, go!" he shoos her away with an exasperated wave.

She rolls her eyes and goes to the window farthest away from us in the train car. It's less than twenty feet from us though, and Peeta is clearly annoyed. He motions for me to sit on the overstuffed loveseat on the back wall of the train car: as far as Portia as we can sit without being outside.

I sit down and he takes a spot next to me. Close enough so our knees touch.

"I'm sorry to keep you," he says in a low voice, glancing at Portia. "I wanted to see you again."

"Oh, um. That's very…thoughtful of you. I know you're very busy."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "With nothing nearly as interesting as you." My cheeks feel hot and I feel like I might start sweating. "I think," he murmurs as quietly as he can, "I crossed a line last night." He looks for my reaction, but I furrow my brow in confusion. "I shouldn't have pressed you about your home life. I know that's personal. I think it bothered you."

I stammer as I try to reply. "No, it's. Fine. I mean, you can ask whatever you want."

"Just because I can doesn't mean I should." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of folded tissue paper. "I wanted to apologize," he whispers, gently unwrapping the tissue. "Please accept this as not only an apology, but a token of my admiration."

I stare down at the brooch in his palm. The gold gleams in my eyes against the white paper. I inhale and exhale slowly. "It's beautiful."

He smiles. "It was my mother's."  
>I can't mask the horror in my eyes as I look back to him. "I can't accept this."<p>

"Why not?"

"It's too much. It's your memory of her."

He smiles. "I have lots of memories of her. I want a memory of you. Wearing this." He takes the pin and opens it. "May I?"

"I really can't."

"I insist."

I hesitate, but nod anyway. I can't refuse. I can't believe this is happening.

He gently pinches a fold of my shirt. I watch his face as he carefully slips the post through the fabric. He bites the tip of his tongue as he concentrates. His eyes are dark in the low light, like the night sky. He closes the clasp.

I stare down at the gold dandelion he's pinned on me.

"Peeta, it's…it's too much."  
>"It's perfect," he says.<p>

I look up at him. "Thank you," I breathe. "I've never had anything so incredible."

He blushes slightly. "I'm glad to give it to you. I want it to be worn. By someone worthy of it."

It's my turn to flush. "I'm not worthy of this." I drop my eyes to my lap.

"You are," he says, catching my chin and lifting my face to his. "I know you are."

Portia coughs. We glance over and she looks away with raised eyebrows.

Peeta releases my chin and grits his teeth. "Sorry," he mutters.

"You really aren't allowed to be alone?" I whisper.

"No. Especially not with unmarried women," he sighs.

I wish I'd known last night he wasn't allowed to touch me. I might have had more fun.

"I should let you go," he says suddenly out loud. "Your family and friends must be very eager to see you again."

"Oh yes," I remember. I'm supposed to be leaving. Time seems to stop when he's near.

He stands and I follow. Portia turns and walks to the door. She opens the door and waits for Peeta.

"I hope our paths cross again," he says, turning to me.

"I'm sure they will," I say. He knows other Mentors, after all.

He nods and takes a step towards to the door. Portia walks out the door. He quickly slams the door behind her and whirls back to me. He leans in as fast as he can and kisses my lips. He pulls back as Portia yanks the door back open, her eyes blazing furiously.

"Sorry," he grins at me, ignoring her huffs. "Had to do that."

He turns and walks out the door, avoiding Portia's glares as he strolls down the steps to the train platform. She looks at me. I don't know if she saw what happened, but it doesn't look as though she'd be pleased either way.

"You can't tell anyone about you were alone. For even a second," she says. She's angry but she's pleading. I nod quickly, still dumbstruck. She gives me a curt bob of her head, as though we've made a pact and follows him onto the platform. I jump at the force at which she slams the door.

I stand unmoving for a number of minutes. I reach up and gingerly touch my lips. His mouth was soft and warm. There's a lingering sweet taste on my lips.

Effie crashes through the door to the adjacent cars moments later.

"Was that Peeta? Did you speak with him?" She's nearly mad with excitement.

"Yes, he came to say goodbye."

"And?" She could be jumping up and down.

"And that's it."

"What is that?" Effie peers at my pin as Haymitch saunters in to the car.

"Oh." I glance up at Haymitch. He's staring at the pin too. "He gave me this. As a goodbye gift."

"It's lovely!" she coos. "Are dandelions going to be the fashion this year?"

"I don't think so," I frown. "This was his mother's."

Haymitch's eyes nearly bug out as Effie gasps. "His mother's?" he asks quietly.

"I told him it was too much," I rush out. "But he insisted."

"You shouldn't have taken it," he says uselessly. We both know that's impossible.

"Nonsense! It was a gift," Effie dismisses. "And he wanted you to have it."

Haymitch and I look at one another at a loss. He shakes his head before turning and leaving for his own car. Effie continues babbling at how wonderful it is Peeta's taken an interest in me, but I can't listen anymore. I know Haymitch is right. I should have tried harder to change his mind. I shouldn't have taken it. I shouldn't have let him kiss me.

The train slowly starts the long trip home.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm fidgeting at the doors with excitement. I can barely wait for the train to stop rolling. I want to leap from the door now, but Haymitch is holding it closed until the train stops. I hop back and forth on each foot.

"You look like you have to pee, knock it off," he says.

"How long does this thing take to brake? Let's go!" I whine. He rolls his eyes.

Finally the wheels jerk to a stop and he throws open the door. I leap onto the platform, momentarily blinded by the flash of the photographers waiting for me. I squint in the bright light and try to hear her call over the cheers and shouts.

Her bright eyes and blond braid appear in the crowd.

I run to her as fast as I can and she runs back. "Prim!" I shout, lifting her off the ground as I squeeze my arms around her. She's crying and so am I. I see my mother over her shoulder, wiping her eyes. She wraps her arms around us both and cries on Prim's shoulder.

I release them and set Prim down. I feel a tug at my elbow. "Gale!"

I throw my arms around his neck and he's laughing as he hugs me. His mother is patting my back and smiling with shining eyes. "Catnip," he sighs in my ear.

"I'm home," I whisper.

The photographers demand a few more pictures with my family and friends. They pose Madge at my elbow as her father shakes my hand. I smile genuinely. I'm home. I turn to the next well-wisher and freeze.

I'm face to face with Tate's mother. The photographers start snapping with a vicious frenzy.

"Katniss," she croaks, a thin smile on her face. "Congratulations."

I rest my hand on her arm but she turns away, melting into the crowd.

Finally my mother is able to pull me from the platform and we step down to the earth. My feet know the ground and I feel at home breathing in the familiar air. I hold Prim's hand tightly, watching her toothy grin as she looks up at me. I bump into Gale as I bear right at the fork in the road to town.

He laughs. "Where are you going?"

"To my house!"

"You don't live in the Seam anymore."

"They've already moved our things?" I glance over at my mother. She nods.

"Your things," she corrects. "A crew arrived yesterday to collect your clothes and a few personal things."

"I helped arrange them in your room," Prim pipes up. "I wanted to make sure they didn't take anything."

"I doubt I have anything worth stealing," I remind her.

"Wait until you see your house," she says with wide eyes.

They lead me across town. It's a long walk and I can see people staring at me and pointing. I grow uncomfortable at the attention; I had hoped once I was free of the Capital I would no longer live under a microscope. I can see almost why Haymitch drinks the prying eyes away.

I spy him heading into his house when we reach the entrance to the Victor's Village. He must have slipped the crowd at the platform and left for home immediately. I can't blame him. I've grown tired of it all in my first year.

"This is it," Prim says.

I stop and look up. This pale blue house is giant compared to the lean-to we called home in the Seam. Two floors, a shingled roof, white shuttered windows and a wraparound porch look back at me. I step slowly up the three stairs onto the porch. I look back at my mother and Gale.

"Go on," she says.

I push on the polished wooden door and it swings open. I try not to gasp. The front sitting room is larger than my Seam house. The fireplace is big enough to roast a pig in. The stairs to the second floor are covered in plush white carpeting. I think I spy a bathroom under the stairs. I look into the open kitchen. A double stove sits in the wall next to an icebox. I won't be cooking over a woodstove again. We can keep food more than two days.

I'm stunned as I moved toward the stairs. I can hear my family, Gale and Hazelle enter behind me, shushing each other as they watch my reaction. I climb the steps slowly.

The upstairs is equally impressive. From the top of the stairs I can see another bathroom in the middle of the hallway and two bedrooms beyond it. I turn to my left to enter the largest bedroom.

Prim and I shared a small single bed at home. Here a large double bed sits in the center of the room. Two dressers, a low one on the right wall and a tall one tucked in a corner to my left tell me I have new clothes waiting for me. Two closets sit in the wall. I cross to one and open it.

"Cinna," I breathe. My dresses are lined up. I gently finger the fabric of the fiery dress I wore to my first televised interview. His stitching is perfect. I let the dress slip away and close the door.

"Do you like it?" Gale's voice is in the doorway.

"It's impressive," I say, looking over. "I hate it."

"Me too," he says, crossing to my bed and sitting down heavily. "But," he smiles "you still have a place in the Seam."

He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "That moving crew wouldn't take your family's stuff; they're supposed to stay at home. I mean, they still moved their things over this morning, but this house is registered only to you."

"Is there anything left in the old house?"

He nods mischievously.

An hour later we're in my former home. "What am I looking for?" I laugh as Gale tells me if I'm getting warmer or colder.

"You'll see," he teases. "Colder."

"Dammit, Gale!" I cry out in frustration. "What-" I stop. I see it tucked away in the corner. "Gale," I whisper.

My bow peeks out from under the disused wood stove. I hurry over and pull it out, holding it to my chest.

"I found your hiding spot a few days after you left," he confesses sheepishly. "I need to make you some more arrows, but…I kept your bow safe."

"Thank you," I smile gratefully. "I…thank you."

He watches me. He takes a step closer to me. "Thank you for coming home." He leans in slowly. I watch him stunned.

He kisses me softly, pressing more firmly into me when I don't respond. He pulls away, frowning. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I thought…"

"No, it's nothing," I sputter. "I…I'm just…surprised."

"Really?" he asks doubtfully.

"It's been a very confusing few weeks," I apologize. I smile. "Let's hunt tomorrow. I want to remember myself again."

He smiles cautiously. "Okay. I'll see you at dawn."

* * *

><p>I relish every minute I have before the Victory starts in another four months.<p>

Gale didn't mention the kiss again and I haven't since. I think I wounded his feelings, but we don't speak of it. There's a tense peace between us. I want to tell him my fears; but I can't tell a soul.

I'm beginning to wonder if – maybe hope - he's forgotten about me the morning the phone rings. I stare at the phone for a moment, bewildered. It's never rung before. I pick it up slowly, like a foreign animal.

"Yes?"

"Katniss?"

I clear my throat. "Yes."

"Hi."

When I recognize his voice my knees feel weak. "Oh, Peeta. Hi." I can picture his smiling face on the other end of the line.

"I hope you don't mind, I got your phone number from Effie."

"Of course not," I tell him, plotting my revenge against Effie Trinket.

"How's your new home?"

"It's beautiful," I tell him. "It's strange to have this much room, you know? Oh, I mean I guess you wouldn't know. Not that you can't imagine," I stammer. _You sound like an idiot, _I tell myself.

He laughs. "No, I understand. My home is kind of stupid, isn't it? All this space for a handful of people."

"Is it just you and your father?"

"Mostly. Dad has his assistants and advisors live here."

"Does Portia live there?"

"No. I have a room for her, but I told her to keep her own place after we hired her. I told her it's because I wanted her to have her life outside work, but really I wanted her to leave me the hell alone once in a while." His voice is smiling.

I hear a woman's voice from near the receiver. "Is that her?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "She's always here." I hear her say something in a sharp tone. He laughs again. "She's mad a lot too."

I feel a little embarrassed listening in on their obvious tug-of-war friendship. "You can't even call someone without supervision?"

"No," he says dejectedly.

"Why not?"

"My father says he wants to be sure I live up to his standards," he mourns. "I wish I knew what they were."

"Perfection?"

"I hope not!" he laughs. "I'd never live up to that."

"I doubt that," I smirk. I roll my eyes at his self-effacing humor. He's perfected the act of being innocent and likeable.

"How is your meadow?"

I eagerly take the opportunity to change the subject. "The dandelions have gone to seed. It looks like it snowed feathers. The puffs keep getting stuck in my hair!"

He snickers again. "Now that I'd like to see." He pauses again. "Do you have a camera?"

"No," I tell him. "I wouldn't know how to use one anyway."

"Shame," he says.

He asks me to describe my home again, and I give him a few innocuous details about life in Twelve. I leave out any mention of names. He may seem harmless, but he has dangerous connections.

After he hangs up, I stand with the receiver in my hand listening to the dial tone. The back door to the kitchen slams and I hastily hang up.

"Who was that?" my mother asks, setting a basket of medicinal herbs on the table to sort.

"Um, just Cinna. Reminding me not to cut my hair."

"It's getting so long," she frowns. I reach back and touch the braid, wishing I'd thought of a better lie.

"Maybe he'll cut it for me," I tell her. I help her sort the herbs.

* * *

><p>It's barely a week later that the package arrives.<p>

I walk to the train station with the small paper notice clutched in my fingers. I've never received a package before. I wonder who sent it. I imagine clothes from Cinna, an etiquette book from Effie I'll never read, maybe a note of admiration from Caesar Flickerman.

When the porter hands me the package just larger than my palm, I'm baffled.

Walking home I decide to open it privately. Prim will be home from school by the time I arrive and my mother is usually there to greet her. I slip out to the Seam. I wander along the path I know well, my feet moving on instinct as I avoid the gaze of the people who know my face from the Games.

I reach the fence and duck under, stealing into the woods to hide. I pull myself up onto the boulder where I met Gale that morning. I only have a month until he begins work in the mines. My fear for him is painful.

I turn the small square over in my hands, trying to recognize the even-handed printing under the seal of the Capital that is stamped on the front. Giving up, I tear the brown paper and open the cardboard box.

A note flutters onto my lap.

I pick up the strange metal box inside. It has a glass eye and small buttons running along the top with symbols I can't decipher. "What the - ?" I mutter to myself. I reach into my lap and unfold the note.

_You said maybe I could see your dandelion meadow someday. So I thought why not today? Please send me a photo. I can't wait to see you again. Peeta._

I set down the camera and note and scream into the woods.

My mother immediately notices my expression when I get home. When she asks me what's wrong, I surrender the note and camera and drop onto the sofa in the living room.

"Peeta? Who is…oh. Oh no – " Her face goes white. "Katniss, how…?"

"We met at my Victory Reception," I mumble. "He gave me a tour of their gardens."

My mother sinks slowly in the chair opposite me.

"You can't…he's…," she gasps.

"I know, Mom!" I yell at her. I kick myself as Prim rushes to the top of the stairs to see what I'm yelling about.

"What's wrong?" she asks, jumping down the stairs to hurry to my side.

"Nothing," I mutter. She sits down beside me anyway. She knows I'm lying.

"Katniss, you cannot get involved with that family," my mother says futilely. She sounds helpless and frightened.

Prim looks to me and waits. I hand her the note.

"Who is that?" she asks, frowning as she reads.

"Snow's son."

Her face blanches. "Oh."

"Yeah," I nod.

"Why did he send you this?" My mother takes the camera from me and examines it like a wild and dangerous plant.

"He called. Last week. When I told you it was Cinna. I told him about the dandelions in the meadow and…how the puffs got stuck in my hair…he wanted to see it." I drift off.

"You lied to me?"  
>"What was I supposed to say?" I challenge her. "Oh, Mom, that was just the President's son! He gave me his mother's favorite piece of jewelry before I left the Capital. Just calling to check in!"<p>

"He what?"

I rub my eyes with my fingertips. "He gave me a dandelion brooch that was Lady Amaranth's."

I hear her hiss as she sucks in air between her teeth. "You should send it back to him."

"I tried to refuse it, Mom. He wouldn't let me," I whimper. "I don't know what to do."

"How did you meet?" Prim asks.

I look over at her. "He was at the Victor's Reception, he asked me to dance. I told him about you collecting plants so he showed me their conservatory." I look over at my mother's face. "He was a gentleman, Mom. Nothing happened."

Prim is hopeful. "Well, if he's nice maybe you can tell him you can't see him and he won't mind."

"It's not that simple, Prim," our mother says. "She's going to see him every year as a mentor. This is a very delicate situation. Besides, he could be a perfect gentleman at parties, but what about in private? And what about what his father?"

"I don't think Snow knows the whole of it," I tell her. "He only noticed Peeta was missing at dinner, but I didn't go back into the party with him. I don't even know if he's aware Peeta came to see me off at the train station."

The camera drops from my mother's hands. She doesn't move to pick it up. "Okay," she says, licking her lips and breathing quickly. "Okay. That's not so bad. He just said goodbye. He was just calling to check in."

"He kissed me."

She starts to cry. I'm too numb to join her.

"Oh, Katniss. I don't want this for you," she moves over to squeeze on my other side on the sofa. "We have to figure this out. You can't end up like Amaranth."

"I don't know what to do, Mom," I whisper. "I can't say no."

Prim starts to whimper, so I pull her to sit on my hap and hug her to me. "It'll be okay," I tell her, not believing it myself. "It will." I rock her back and forth gently.

We sit and watch the camera on the floor.

"What if we take photos of your life here?" Prim says suddenly. "Us, your friends, Gale. Maybe if you show him you have a good life here he'll leave you be."

"How will that help?"

"You said he's nice," Prim says, twisting to look at me. "Maybe he'll understand if you don't want to leave."

"Okay," I sigh wearily. "Let's try anything."

* * *

><p>Gale rakes his fingers through his hair nervously. "What should I do? Smile?"<p>

"Just look natural," I tell him as I hoist Posy onto my hip.

"Wot's dat?" she asks, pointing at the camera.

"It's going to take a picture of you."

"Why?"  
>"'Cause you're so pretty," I tell her, rubbing my nose on her cheek. She squeals and pulls her head away from me.<p>

Hazelle tugs on her dress. "How's this? It's the cleanest thing I have." She holds out her arms so I can see the outfit.

"You look great, Hazelle," my mother tells her.

"It's weird I never heard of this," Gale says, frowning. "I didn't know they made history books for the Victors. Does Haymitch have one?"

"Probably burned it," I brush off, eyeing Prim. I hadn't told her the lie I'd told Gale to get him to agree to this photo. "Are Vick and Rory ready?"

"Where are they?" Hazelle asks herself. She calls back into the house. "Boys! Are you ready?"

Vick appears in the doorway, pulling on the collar of his buttoned shirt. "Why do we have to wear our Reaping clothes today? I hate this shirt."

"It's for Katniss' history book, you should be honored she asked you," his mother scolds. "Rory, fix your hair. Gale, come here."  
>I stifle a giggle as she licks her thumb and goes after a smudge of coal dust on Gale's chin. "Ugh, Mom! Stop that, I can take care of it!"<p>

"Then do it! I don't want the only photo of my boys to make them look like urchins."

My laugh escapes me and he glares at me.

"Okay, settle down and sit on the porch steps," my mother directs, fiddling with the camera. I sit down and place Posy in my lap. Gale sits next to me and Vick and Rory line up awkwardly behind us.

"Relax, you guys," I grin over my shoulder. "It's not going to hurt."

"I look stupid," Rory says, stubbing his shoe on the wooden slats.

"The photo doesn't have anything to do with that," Gale jokes. Rory pushes Gale's shoulder as Vick laughs harder. I'm laughing at them scuffle on the porch when I see my mother pressing the button.

"Oh no! Why did you photograph that?" I moan. "We were a mess."

"You looked happy," she says quietly. I catch myself for a moment and then nod with a thankful smile. "Okay, one more."

Hazelle settles the boys down and we take a simple photo where we all face the camera, but I already have the photo I want Peeta to see.

We take another photo of me teaching Posy a nursery rhyme and another of Rory dancing with Prim before we walk over to the mayor's house. Madge smiles as she opens the door. She's dressed in a white dress with a blue sash tied around her waist and a matching blue ribbon hold her hair back from her face.

"I'm nervous," she confesses as she closes the door behind us and leads me to the parlor with the piano. "I haven't had my photo taken since Father was made mayor."

"You just have to smile, Madge," I assure her. "It's nothing big. Just a little entry in a history book."

"Still, it's history," she breathes. "It's been so long since we had a Victor even Father can't remember the books. You're a legend," she blushes.

I cough nervously and walk hurriedly into the parlor.

My mother arranges her and me at the piano and takes a few pictures as Madge tries to teach me to play a simple song. I'm terrible and very glad the photos can't convey the cacophony we create as we try to both strike the keys. Prim is crying with laughter by the time we're halfway through the song, and I nod to my mother to get photos of her joy. I want him to see how much I love my sister.

I squeeze Prim's hand as we walk home that afternoon, feeling better about the day. There are at least two dozen photos on the camera now. My life is documented; my friends and family are here and I belong here. I'm cheerful and hopeful. He _is_ kind. He _will_ understand.

"Oh!" I realize. "We forgot the dandelions."

My mother frowns and looks at the sky. "It's getting late."

"Not so late," I tell her. "It's what he asked for, I should do it."

"I can go, Mom," says Prim. "I'll take the photo. You should check home to see if anyone needs you."

My mother considers and then accepts. She smoothes my hair and looks me in the eye. "Just remember your goal," she reminds me and leaves us.

Prim and I cross the town together, drawing stares in our Reaping clothes. I didn't want to wear any of Cinna's Capital creations; I wanted to look like me. We reach the meadow as the sun casts golden orange beams down on us.

"It's so beautiful," Prim breathes. "I can see why he'd want to see this."

"They don't have dandelions in the Capital anymore," I tell her. "He has the botanist grow them special."

"He must miss her mother a lot."

Her thoughtfulness is always surprising me. She's so much wiser than her years. I leave her the camera and walk a few steps into the field. "What should I do?"

"Sit down by that cluster of puffs," she instructs, pointing to a bed of white headed dandelions with a few late blooming yellow flowers peeking through. I do as she says.

"Wait a moment," I say as she raises the glass eye. I reach into my dress pocket and pull out the dandelion pin I'd hidden there this morning. I fasten it to my dress and check to make sure it's straight. Prim watches me with a serious face.

"Do you think I shouldn't wear it?" I ask her, running my fingers over the pin. "I can't tell if I should or not."

"I think he'd be happy to see you wearing it," she answers slowly. I know her meaning: that it is both a good and a terrible thing.

I sigh and let my hands drop to the bed of little white clouds. I pluck a puff and twirl it in my fingers. I gently blow on the flower and it bursts into a million helicopters on the breeze. I raise my face into the sun as I watch I watch them drift away up high in the air.

I hear the shutter snap at Prim takes the photo.

I don't know how to make pictures from the camera, so I wrap the camera back in its box when we arrive home for supper. The next day I will take it to the train station and send it back. I wish I could have some of the pictures, especially Prim and Gale, but I don't dare include a note with the package. This communication needs to end now.

* * *

><p>"Katniss. Wake up. Katniss!"<p>

"Rue!" I sit up at the feel of her small hands beseeching me to help her. I stare at Prim's sad blue eyes.

"It's me, Kat. It's Prim."

I look around. I'm in my bed at home instead of the tree of my dream. Rue is gone. Prim is here.

"I'm okay, Prim. It was just a dream."

She nods. "There's a phone call. For you." She doesn't need to tell me who it is.

My palms are sweating as I descend the stairs in my pajamas. My mother is sitting on the loveseat, staring at the phone receiver and chewing her knuckle. Prim follows me halfway down the stairs and then sits with her face pressed between to posts of the banister. The phone receiver is heavy in my hand.

"Hello?"

"They're amazing." His voice is soft but I can hear he's happy. "Thank you."

"I just thought…you'd want to see life here. My life here."

"It looks wonderful," he says dreamily. "You look so happy there."

"I am happy here," I say firmly, looking to my mother with hope.

"Is the little blond girl your sister?"

I swallow hard. "Yes, that's Primrose."

"She looks like your mother," he says thoughtfully. "And your friends. You're having such a good time with them. I can see they love you very much."

"I love them too," I intone nervously.

"And the dandelion field," he says softly.

"Well, you wanted to see it." I lick my lips. They feel chapped and dry. "It's really beautiful."

"I was going to say you look beautiful."

I choke. "It's just….dandelions."

He laughs. "It's you."

"Um. Thank you." My mother is digging her nails into the sofa cushions. Prim's knuckles are white on the banister.

"Don't mention it. Or as Portia would have it, mention nothing at all."

"Is she there?"

"Yeah," he groans. "She's giving me the evil eye right now."

"Are you not supposed to be calling me?"

"Probably not. They record all my phone calls anyway."

My blood runs cold and I'm furious he didn't share this sooner. "Should we be talking?" I'm hoping this is a good chance to hang up.

"I have a friend from Three who taught me how to jam the signal, don't worry. It loops back as though the phone call never happened."

"Hunh," I mask my misery. "That sounds complicated."

"It's worth it. I'd give anything to sit in the middle of a dandelion field without someone standing over me looking at her watch and telling me to leave you alone."

I imagine Portia standing over him. "Tell her I say hello."

"Katniss says hello."

"Get off the phone," I hear her snap. "Your father is going to be home any minute."

He sighs. "I'm not going to see you until the Victory Tour."

"I guess not."

He stays silent for a long while. "I wish I could see you again. Now."

"I'm sorry we can't," I say, wondering if I'm crossing a line. "I had a good time in the conservatory."

I look up at Prim watching me. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why it hurts that he sounds so lonely. I don't know why I keep thinking of that night in the gardens when I didn't know who he was and laughed as we ran through the flower beds.

My mother stands up and stomps over to the phone. "Hang up," she hisses angrily.

I shrug, confused and angry with myself. "I should let you go," I say. "I don't want you to get into trouble with your father."

"I don't care about getting in trouble."

"I do. For you."

He lets a pause grow after I speak.

I hear him sigh happily. "You were such a wonderful surprise."

The dial tone buzzes in my year.

My mother rips from the receiver from my hand and slams the phone down. "Katniss, what are you doing? Why did you tell him you had a good time?"

"I did!" I cry out. "I don't know why I told him I did, but he is kind and he was good to me and he's lonely there."

"So you want him to drag you off to the Capital to keep him company? To be hidden away to rot?" Her voice breaks. "So you can be locked away until you kill yourself too?"

"He won't do that! He knows I'm happy here!"

"You don't know that! You don't know him!"

"And I guess I never will." I brush by her and run up the stairs past Prim.

I storm into my bedroom and slam the door, throwing myself on my bed. I bury my face in my pillows and scream. I lay on my stomach, letting my head fall to the side and staring at the wall.

"Katniss?"

Prim's small voice is in my door. I flip my head to face her. "Prim." She steps inside. She closes the door behind her and crosses to the bed. She climbs up on the bed and settles herself next to me. She reaches out and runs her fingers across my temple.

"Does Gale know?" she murmurs.

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"How could I? What would I say?"

She takes another pause. "I don't think you should tell him."

"Why do you say that?"

"I think he'd get upset, Katniss. And you know he'd not keep quiet about it."

Gale does have a temper. He's just like me. I think back to his suggestion we run away from this all. How upset I'd been that he wasted time thinking of things like that. Now I wish I'd listened.

"You're right. There's no point. And it's over."


	3. Chapter 3

I turn the smooth pebble over in my hand and eye the water. I crouch lower and pull my arm back. The pebble arcs as it flies out over the lake, kissing the water once, twice, three times before it finally drops below the surface.

A twig breaks behind me.

I smile. "Almost, but not quite."

Gale sighs as he appears beside me. "It was one twig. I've been there for fifteen minutes and you didn't know."

I cock my head to look over at him. "I knew."

"Liar."

I grin. "Shhh. You're scaring the fish." I nod towards where I've already cast my net on the far side of the lake where the basin is deeper.

"And throwing rocks is helping, I'm sure," he rolls his eyes and opens the bag he carries. He hands me chunk of brown bread reluctantly and I snatch it away with a laugh. I stuff half of it in my mouth as I start back over to the fishing poles. He follows me, shaking his head.

I lay out my game bag on the grassy bank and sit down in the warm afternoon sun. He sits next to me and we set out the food he's brought to eat while the nets do the work for us. We sit in a comfortable silence, watching the light reflect off the green glassy water.

"Summer's nearly over," he remarks. "The leaves are already turning down there."

I see the yellow hint on the treetops where he's pointing. "It's been a mild summer; winter won't be so bad this year."

"Except you'll be gone."

"It's two weeks."

"Two long weeks."

"It'll be longer for me," I force a smile. "I'm the one getting the hauled around in that stuffy train and paraded in front of people that hate me."

His eyes darken. "I don't think they hate the Victors the way they hate the Capital. Their kids have had to kill too." He looks off over at the golden trees. "I wish I could give those Capital bastards a taste of their own medicine."

I watch his jaw clench. "They're not all so bad," I say softly. He laughs derisively. "There are plenty of bastards, Gale, but not all of them."

"Like your dear friend Effie?" he asks sarcastically.

"She's just an idiot," I say exasperatedly.

"Then who?"

I know what I want to say. "Cinna," I answer instead.

"Your stylist?"

"Yeah. He…understands. He's the one who knew I had to make an impression. He's the one who figured out the theme for me and…" I catch myself. I haven't thought of Tate in a long time.

Gale sees my distraction. "His family's doing well." He tries to make it sound casual.

I say nothing.

"They're really proud he fought for so long," he says softly. "I talked to his sister about a week after he died. She was bringing clothes to bury him in so my mom could wash them." He glances up. "She's not angry you survived."

"Hunh," I huff.

"I told her I was." That gets my attention.

"What?"

"That you had to survive anything, Katniss! Her brother is dead and she has to pretend it's fine. It's not."

I look at the lake for a long time. I think of Prim's ducktailed shirt sticking out of her skirt when her name was called. It's true. It's not right.

"I'm going to pull in my net," I tell him, crawling off the game bag to haul in the line.

It's a meager catch; six fish each when we split them up. I'll keep two for my family and trade the rest at the Hob for liquor for Haymitch. Gale will take his home; Rory and Vick are always hungry and will eat plenty.

"Are you sure you don't want some of mine?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"No," he answers stubbornly. "I have enough for them."

I wish he'd let me help his family. I have more than enough and don't want it. But as much as he is angry, he is proud.

We reach the fence and climb under the break, pushing our bags of fish before us. I climb to my feet and start brushing dirt from my clothes.

The sound of the hovercraft hits our ears. I jerk my eyes to the sky, looking for the ship.

"Throw the bags!" Gale hisses, shoving our game bags through the breaks in the fence. "Go. Run!"

We tear through the streets as fast as we can to put distance between us and the forbidden border. As we start to get closer to where homes are built, I can see people stepping out of the door and searching the sky for the source of the noise.

"I can't see it!" I call as we run.

"Me neither."

The noise has stopped by the time we've reached the town center. Citizens are clustered in groups outside, murmuring nervously. Merchant and Seam parents alike hug their children close, frantic and fearful. There are no uniformed officers other than our own small squad, though. They appear confused as well, eyeing one another in bewilderment. I turn around fully but see no ship.

I stop running. Gale sees and stops. "We heard it, right? We all heard it," I gasp for breath. He nods. "Where is it? Where could it-" I freeze.

"Katniss?"

"The Victor's Village," I choke. "Prim!"

I've never run so hard, even in the Arena. I even pass Gale who is nearly eight inches taller than me. My feet pound the earth and the blood rushes through my ears as I scramble to get to my sister.

It's a smaller ship than I've seen before, but it's clearly Capital built. The seal burns into my eyes from the side of the ship. It sits in the grassy expanse in the center of our circle of pristine and empty Victor houses. The hatch door is open.

I slow as I enter the Village. I look back to see Gale closing the gap between us. No one else, not even our Peacekeepers, has dared follow us to the source of the noise. I steel my nerves and pick up speed and run to my house.

"Prim!" I run through the door looking for her. If they know I'm poaching I want them to take me, not her. "Prim!" I scream louder into the empty living room. Gale bangs into the living room behind me. I run to the foot of the stairs and am halfway up them when I hear my mother's voice.  
>"Katniss."<p>

I trip back down the stairs. She's come in from the back porch. Her face is lily white.

"Mrs. Everdeen? What's wrong?" Gale asks her breathlessly.

"Mom, where is she?" I cross to her and grip her arms roughly. "Where's Prim?"

I hear her voice. I look to the back porch. My feet are like lead as I walk slowly to the screen door.

"I think she likes you," Prim is saying when I see her at Lady's pen. She's handing a carrot to Peeta.

My legs feel like they're going to give out. I want to scream. My mother was right. I look back to her. She's struggling to maintain her composure.

Gale crosses to stand next to me. "Who is that?" He looks at their strange clothes, their neat hair. He turns to me. "Katniss, who is that?"

"I'm so sorry," I whisper to him. "I should have told you." He looks confused when I meet his eye. I look over my shoulder at my mother. "I won't let them take Prim."

She closes her eyes and turns away. "Katniss," she manages from behind the palm clamped over her mouth.

"Katniss! Is that you?" Prim calls from the backyard.

I look at Gale. "Don't say too much," I warn.

I breathe for a moment before I push open the back door. Gale follows closely, unwilling to let me face the strangers alone.

Peeta flashes a brilliant smile when he sees me. He hands the carrot back to Prim and crosses to me. I spy Portia standing on the porch, wringing her hands.

"Katniss," he breathes, taking my hand and kissing it with a short bow.

"What are you doing here?" I have to ask immediately.

"In an amazing coincidence, my ship broke down right over Twelve. Amazing." He winks. I glance over at Portia and she covers her face and shakes her head. He leans in. "I might have learned a few things about creating a minor electrical error from my friend in Three." He stands back up. "By my calculations it'll take at least a day to fix," he grins. "So it's pretty lucky we were overhead when it happened."  
>"You are going to be in so much trouble," Portia moans and sinks to sit on the stairs.<p>

"I know you from the pictures. You're her cousin, right?" Peeta holds out his hand to shake Gale's. Gale doesn't move. I wince when I realize my lie is discovered. I nudge him with my elbow and he extends his palm.

"Gale Hawthorne," he says icily.

"Peeta Snow."

I can see Gale's eyes widen with shock. "Gale, this is President Snow's son," I say. "We met at my Victory Reception."

"She was definitely the only interesting thing there," Peeta laughs.

Prim steps over to stand with us and I fight not to grab her and run. "Prim, why don't you make us some tea?" I say. I meet her eye.

"Okay," she nods and goes inside. I see her join my mother standing inside the screen door.

"Dandelion tea?" Peeta asks hopefully.

I shake my head. "It's too late in the season," I tell him. "I think we have mint leaves, though."

"Oh well. Next time," he smiles. My heart sinks at the thought.

"So what do you do?" Peeta turns to Gale with a friendly expression that is not met.

"I'm going to work in the mines in fall," Gale says without inflection.

"Coal mines?"

"Yes."

"What are they like?"

"Dark."

I force a laugh as though Gale was joking. "We take a tour of them every year with school," I say. "There are all sorts of machinery and tunnels underground."

"I'd really like to see that," Peeta says eagerly.

"You can't!" I start as Portia leaps off the porch and crosses to him. "You've got to stay in the ship. You shouldn't even be outside of it right now!" She's beside herself. "You're going to be in so much trouble, Peeta," she whispers.

"I don't care!" he cries out. "It's a prison being locked up there."

"You're safe there!"

"Mother wasn't."

She tries to think of something to say, but gives up and stomps back to the porch. He looks back to Gale and me with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that, that was very inappropriate," he mutters.

"Your father doesn't know you're gone?" I stare.

"Not exactly," he admits. "I'm supposed to be learning how to fly hovercrafts, so I picked this one for my test run…and left without the instructor."

I look at Portia, pacing on the porch. "She won't get in trouble, will she?" I look back to Peeta. "With your dad?"

He scoffs. "He likes her better than me." He lets his shoulders sag. "I've kind of…pulled this stuff before. He fired my first couple assistants before he figured out it was my fault. He's not bothered her too much."

"Fired?" Gale asks. I know what he's thinking. Fired or killed.

"Yeah," Peeta says sheepishly. "They got sent back to their home Districts." I glance at Gale. Killed.

"You shouldn't have come," I tell him. "You're going to be in trouble."

"It's worth it," he grins. "I wanted to see you again."

Gale stiffens beside me.

"Tea's ready!" Prim calls. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Portia follows Peeta inside. I grab Gale's elbow. "You should go home."

"Katniss, what the hell is going on?" he hisses.

"I don't have time to explain, just make up some excuse and go."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him."

"He's not allowed to be alone with me anyway."

"What?"

"Gale, go to your family. They need you."

He knows I'm right, so as we walk inside he refuses the mug from Prim. "I should get going," Gale says, speaking to my mother and ignoring Peeta. "My mother will need my help at home."

"I can imagine that with two brothers and a little sister!" Peeta smiles. "I envy your family. Please give your mother my regards."

Gale looks shell-shocked as he turns and walks out the door wordlessly. He doesn't even say goodbye to me.

We take our tea to the living room and Peeta and I sit down on the sofa. My mother and Prim stand awkwardly, unwilling to leave me but unsure if they should stay.

"Please sit down," Peeta says warmly. My mother lowers herself into her rocking chair. Prim moves over and sits on the arm of the sofa by me. I'm annoyed she's so close to Peeta, but relieved I can see she's safe by my side.

"Tell me about your plant remedies," Peeta says eagerly.

"Oh," my mother flushes. "I don't think it's that interesting…"

"Please."

She thinks of what to say. Prim jumps in. "We use aloe to treat burns when there are fires in the mine."

"Really?" His brow furrows.

"Yes, you just crack open the spiked leaf and use the gel inside as it is." She slips down onto the cushion, forcing me closer to Peeta. She leans forward to talk around me. "There's a special kind of mold that grows on the trees in over towards the Seam that can be crushed and eaten to fight infections."

"Mold?" He looks confused.

"It's still just a plant," I say. He nods thoughtfully.

"What's the Seam?" Portia asks.

"It's the part of town where the mining families live," my mother says.

"It's not very big," I say, hoping he won't want to visit my old home.

"Twelve is the smallest district overall," he agrees. "I had to study the regions and their exports a lot."

"What's the largest district?" Prim asks.

"Eleven. It's about six times the size of Twelve."

"Six times?" Her jaw drops open and he laughs a little.

"They're grain production. Wheat, flour, corn. Did you know there are over thirty types of flour made from grain?"

"Really?"

"Yep," he leans forward excitedly. "We grow most of the common flour for breads in the prairies in Eleven, but the heavier wheat is grown in the northern most point."

"I've always wanted to see District One," Prim announces. "I want to see what a diamond looks like."

"Portia, show her," Peeta smiles.

Portia eyes him before reaching up to her earlobe. She unfastens the stud hidden by her black spirals. Prim gapes as Portia hands her the earring. "It's beautiful," she breathes. She turns it and the light sparkles through the cut stone. She holds it up to me and I stare too.

"Would you like one?" Peeta asks.

Prim looks up disbelieving from the earring in her hand. "What?"

"Would you like a diamond?"

My mother sits up straight. "No, she's too young for something like that."

"Oh it's fine," he dismisses. "The mine owner drops off gifts for my father nearly every month, but he doesn't even like them. They just sit in a drawer." He smiles at Prim. "I'll send you some of them."

"Really, it's too much," she insists.

"Peeta," I say softly. "We really can't accept these gifts, they're too much."

He looks disappointed. "I want to."

Portia is watching me when I look over at her. She looks back to Peeta.

"Why don't you keep these?" she says quickly, pulling off the other earring and handing it to Prim. "They're only a quarter carat."

"But…she doesn't have pierced ears!" I argue.

"I can pierce them for you," Portia offers. When she sees Prim's anxiety, she smiles. "Or you can just use them as a pin. I have too many earrings anyway," Portia says, shrugging. "Studs are going out of style anyway."

Prim holds the two small studs in her palm and stares at them. I nudge her gently.

"Thank you," she blurts out. "They're…I've never seen anything like them."

"Thank you, Portia," Peeta says quietly.

I look over at him. He's watching Prim turn the earrings over in her hand. He looks happy and I let myself relax a bit.

My mother notices I ditched my game bag when she stands to make dinner. "I need to run to the butcher for something for dinner," she says. "Do you have a preference, um, Mr. Snow?"

He wrinkles his nose. "Please don't call me that. Peeta is fine. And I don't really have a preference." He turns to me. "You like lamb, don't you?"

"We don't have lamb here," I answer awkwardly.

"What do you have?"

I pick at my pants. "Um. Well, um. Sometimes deer. Boar. Beaver. Squirrel," I cough.

"Squirrel?" He looks alarmed.

"It's really not that bad," I say.

"Um. Okay," he looks at Portia. She looks horrified. "I guess squirrel then."

"We don't have to eat that! Why don't we get something better?" I look to my mother. "How about boar? If they have it. If not, rabbit."

She nods and fidgets. "Prim, why don't you come along and help me carry the food back?"

Prim looks over at me with alarm. "It's okay," I tell her. "I can keep Peeta and Portia company."

My mother collects a basket from the kitchen and eyes me nervously as she herds Prim out the front door. I'm nearly angry as I watch them walk away through the front window. I know she had to leave me. She had to take the chance that they would take me and fly back to the Capital to save Prim. I would have made the same choice.

I turn back to Peeta and Portia. "So-" I start.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," Portia breaks in. "I know this is a terrible inconvenience." She shoots Peeta a glare. "I had no idea this was going to happen."

"Oh come on, you've been stuck in the Capital for years, too," Peeta snorts. "You can't tell me it's not nice to get out. And look at this place! Isn't it amazing?"

"It's not worth the danger," Portia insists.

"I told you, I'll tell Dad it was all my fault."

"Not for you or me," she raises her voice. "For Katniss! What do you think will happen if your father finds out about her?"

He stops and looks at me. His eyes are wide. "He wouldn't blame her."

"Really?" Portia looks sad. She doesn't believe him. "You know how he…thinks about the tributes."

"She's a Victor," he murmurs.

I watch silently. He looks devastated. His eyes come up to meet mine. "I'm sorry," he says. "I wasn't thinking."

"I'm sure it'll be okay," I lie. "He doesn't even know you're missing yet. Otherwise this place would be overrun with Peacekeepers."

"True," he says hopefully. "He's been tied up with some problems with incoming District resources."

My heartbeat quickens. "Really? I hadn't heard of anything."

"I haven't heard anything more," Peeta says thoughtfully. "I guess the Peacekeepers took care of it."

I hope he's wrong. Portia politely interrupts. "Can we help you with dinner?"

I lay in bed that night, exhausted but unable to sleep. Forcing polite conversation in front of my mother and Prim took all the energy I had. I wanted a chance to speak with Peeta alone. I think Prim might be right. Maybe he will listen. But we can't be alone. Portia would be watching. And probably my mother.

I hear the clicking of the clock and sigh. I've been lying awake for hours. I wonder if I should get up and take the clock off the wall. The clicking stops. I look up. It starts up again.

I realize it's not the clock when the little white stone flashes in the moonlight against the window pane. I sit up in bed to make sure I saw it. The next stone taps the glass.

I climb out from under the covers and hurry over to the window. He's on the lawn in front of the house. Alone. He smiles and waves.

I sink back and wonder what to do. I realize there may be only one thing I can do.

I find my boots in the dark. I pull them on and yank the jacket I left on the floor over my nightgown. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I slip down the stairs and unlock the front door. I step out on to the porch and carefully pull the door closed behind me.

He's at the bottom of the steps. He's watching me. I step down and off the porch.

We stand in silence for a few minutes. I don't know what to say. I'm guessing he doesn't either.

"Follow me," I finally manage.

I lead him behind the town, through the trees that run through backyards. He catches up to me and we walk side by side, watching for roots and animals. The dry leaves crunch under our shoes. I can hear his breathing over my shoulder. The houses thin out and the road is now less packed and neat.

"This is it," I tell him as we reach the meadow.

The little white puffs have dwindled in number, but they still pop in the bright moonlight. The moon is so full it's like midday in the open meadow. I hear him inhale as he realizes where we are. I watch him taking it all in. I can't imagine never seeing open green fields or trees surrounding a clearing. It must be like a prison. Like the mines.

"Are there that many stars?" He drops his head back and his throat gleams in the moonlight. "I've never seen so many."

"There's a lot less light here at night," I tell him. "It's easier to see them all."

"It's incredible."

I look up. "Yeah, it is."

I can see him look at me in the corner of my eye. I turn to face him. He leans over to me.

"Wait." I put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from kissing me. He stops. My face burns. "I…I can't."

His shoulders sink. "I know." It feels like my brain spins when he says this.

"You. You do?"

He sighs. He drops down in the field. "Yeah. I know."

I sit down next to him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says numbly. "I don't even want this life, why would anyone else?"

He picks at the dandelion puff next to his knee silently for a long time. He plucks it and blows the seed helicopters away. In the blue moonlight they look like snowflakes falling to earth. I sit silently next to him and we wait until all of them have settled back to the field.

"Mom loved it when they turned white like this. She'd take me to the conservatory and run her fingers down the entire row of dandelions. The seeds would go everywhere," he smiles softly. "It was such a mess." He drops the stem and becomes absorbed in the grass under his heel.

"What happened?" I ask before I wonder if I should.

"She drowned." He rips at a handful of grass. "There's a reflecting pool on the grounds. She…fell in."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I let the silence build again. "I lost my father."

"I remember," he says softly. "In this mines?"

"An explosion. There was no body."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Although it may be.

"Life's never the same, is it?"

"No."

I pluck a dandelion puff and spin the seeds into the night air.

"When you put the flowers around Rue. That's when I knew I wanted to meet you. Because you know what it means. To lose someone. You know what it costs." I say nothing. He looks out over the field. "I hate the Games."

I think I gasped out loud. He looks back over. "I really do, Katniss. I'm not just saying that because you had to fight."

"But. Why?"

"The debt from the Dark Days was settled long ago," he says, stretching out his legs in front of him. "There's no need for all this blood anymore. The Districts would be more stable if we put more funding and resources in them. Sanctions don't work, it just makes everything harder. These supply blackouts are just the start." He glances over. "And…my mother hated them. She told me…about her brother."

I roll onto my knees and sit a little closer. I can't show him how eager I am. I don't want him to mistake the attention. "Have you ever told your father? About what you think?"

"Once," he snorts. "He called me an idiot and threw me out of his office. He doesn't think I have what it takes to lead."

"I think you do. You understand people, that's more important for a leader." I cover my mouth. "That was out of line, I shouldn't have said that."

"There aren't any cameras, Katniss. I want to hear you talk. About anything."

I smile and try to sound brave. "Do you _want_ to lead Panem?"

He looks at me with a hint of surprise. He opens and shuts his mouth. "You know, I've never thought about not leading Panem." He laughs. "I'm sure Dad would love to give the job to someone else."

"He trusts you, though."

"Maybe. That doesn't mean he agrees with me." He flicks a beetle off my boot. "I guess I want to lead. I've been preparing for it my whole life. It's all I'm supposed to think about."

"Not getting involved with tributes?" I smile.

"No tributes," he smiles back. "He keeps sending over generals' daughters for these terrible chaperoned dinners."

"Probably grander than rabbit and wild onion soup," I admit.

"I've never had a better dinner," he tells me. I believe him. I look away.

"I really do like you, Katniss. I've never met anyone like you. And when I saw you interviewed and you talked about Prim and you put the flowers over Rue and Thresh let you go…I just…I don't know, something felt right. For the first time in a long time. Everything's been wrong for a long time but you felt right."

"You can't say things like that." I climb to my feet, angrily brushing grass from my nightgown. "Your father would have me killed if he thought I was disrupting your life."

"He's not that bad," he argues, standing up as well.

"Peeta," I say. I hold my tongue, searching for the words. I'm amazed he can know so much about our world and so little about his own father. "You know he wouldn't approve. And he can make sure you don't see me again. I can't risk going to prison or…anything happening to my family. I can't. No matter how much I like you."

I can't believe I said that. I want to kick myself. I'm almost too preoccupied with my own stupidity to listen to what he says next.

His shoulders sag and he looks back to the field. "I wish…I wish my mother was still around. This is because she died."

"Hunh?"

"After she died, when I was old enough to start dating, he made the rule about no tributes or District-born girls. He says it's because they're trying to get wealth and power, but I think it's all because he thinks it's too different a life. It's not, though. Is it? We're all just people." He toes the earth. "That's what Mom always said."

I consider him for a moment. He's better educated. And much better dressed than anyone here in Twelve. And he's had access to medical care most of us only dream of. But he isn't so different from Madge. Or Tate. Or maybe even Prim.

"She was right," I murmur. "Were you close to your mother?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I mean, Dad was so busy, but I loved spending time with her. She had a beautiful singing voice."

"I've heard stories about her voice," I smile.

"Whenever she was sad, I'd ask her to sing to me. It would make her smile." His voice changes. "She was sad a lot."

I don't respond. He looks over at me. "Do you think the rumors are true?"

"What rumors?"

"I don't know," he says. "I just keep hearing…rumors. That she drowned herself on purpose."

I swallow hard.

"She wouldn't have done that, would she?" he turns his face to mine.

"I…I can't imagine she'd want to leave you."

He looks appreciative at my answer. I try to change the subject. "And who knows if what people say is true? People at all those receptions just talk and talk."

"They do," he agrees. "But when they all say the same thing…" He looks up at the sky. "Katniss, are your friends happy?"

"What?"

"Here in Twelve," he looks at me seriously. "You've eaten squirrel and dandelions before; I may not know much about the dietary habits in the Districts but that can't be by choice. Is it bad here?"

"No," I lie. "It's just…sometimes things are a bit harder and we have to find creative ways to get by."

"You don't have to lie to me."

I slump off my knees onto my hip. "Yes, I do."

"Why?" He shifts in the grass to face me. "Why do you think you have to lie?"

"I don't know what will happen if I tell you the truth. I'm afraid…things will get worse."

"If I try to help?"

I avoid his eyes. "Yeah. If you tell someone we need help…I think it would get worse."

I can see how much this bothers him, so I let the silence pervade. I wonder if I've already doomed Twelve.

"I want…to help. But if you don't want me to do anything, I won't." He reaches over and takes my hand so I'll look at him. "I promise."

I stare at him, wondering why I trust him. "Thank you."

He smiles at me for a moment. "I should let you get back to bed," he says with a hint of melancholy. "I have to pretend to fix the ship tomorrow morning to fly home anyway."

"I hope Portia hasn't woken up," I worry. "She'd definitely murder you."

"I unloaded her pistol before I left," he grins as he gestures for me to take the lead and I begin the walk back to my home. We're silent for the walk, again watching our step and slipping through trees and backyards. We reach the end of the Victor's Village and slip around my house to sneak to the ship's hatch. Portia isn't outside screaming, so I assume she's still asleep.

I stop outside the hatch and turn to Peeta. "If I can't say so tomorrow – in front of Portia or my family - thank you for coming. I'm…I'm glad you did."

"I'm glad, too," he whispers.

"You are a surprise, aren't you?" I murmur out loud.

"Almost as much as you."

I watch him cautiously lean closer. I know I should refuse. But I don't want to this time. This last time.

I let him kiss me. And I kiss him back. His arms move to my waist and I rest my hands on his shoulders. I open my mouth and let him slip his tongue inside to caress mine. I sigh into his cheek.

I finally pull back. He gives me one more peck on the lips.

"Go," I say with a wistful smile. He climbs the steps silently and watches me until the hatch closes with a quiet click. I I turn back to the house.

My mother stands in her bedroom window, watching me.

* * *

><p>He leaves early the next morning, lifting up in the sky and vanishing in the sunlight as the ships speeds back to the Capital. My mother and Prim waited inside after he thanked them for their gracious hospitality. He bid me farewell on the porch, Portia standing on the grass below and watching us sadly.<p>

I dread going back inside. Finally I realize I must get this over with and open the door. She's screaming before I close it behind me.

"What were you thinking? What happened?" my mother demands, stomping over to me.

"We went for a walk," I mutter, staring at the floor and crossing my arms over my chest.

"A walk," she mocks. "In the middle of the night. In your nightgown."

"I was wearing a jacket!" I yell.

"What's going on?" Prim asks, tugging on our mother's sleeve.

My mother purses her lips and glares at me before answering. "Why don't you tell her?"

My face burns. "Last night when you were asleep. I went for a walk with Peeta. To the meadow."

"Alone?"

I nod. She looks horrified. "What did you do? Katniss, you didn't-"

"No!" I shout. "We just talked."

"I saw you at the ship, that's not talking," my mother snarls.

"He kissed me goodbye! He's leaving and he's never going to see me again!"

"How do you know that?" my mother cries out.

"I told him we couldn't see each other."

"You what?"

I glance down at Prim. "I did what Prim suggested. He is kind, after all," I sneer. "I told him we couldn't be together and he agreed." I look back to my mother, trying to hide my disappointment. "We're going to see each other every year at the Games and it can't be anything more."

Prim speaks first. "Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he understood. I think because of his mother."

My mother starts to speak, but I can't listen to anymore. I know he's not the enemy she sees. "I'm going hunting." I turn on my heel and am out the back kitchen door before she can stop me.

I cross through town this time, rather than the fields. I need to make a stop first.

It takes all the courage I have to knock on the old wooden door. I can hear Posy singing to herself inside. The door swings open. "Katniss!" Hazelle sweeps forward and folds me into her arms. "I was so worried. When Gale told me-"

"I'm okay," I say, patting her back. "It's fine, they're gone."

She releases me and turns over her shoulder. "Gale! It's Katniss. She's here."

He's on her heels in seconds. "Catnip!" He grips me shoulders to take me in, examining for any trace of damage. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine, really," I tell him firmly. We stand awkwardly and he slowly releases my shoulders. "I was going to go hunting," I say quietly. "Wanna come?"

He glances at his mother. "Yeah, I have a little time. Be back in a few, Ma." He follows me out the door and we walk in silence to the fence; the tension boiling in the stillness.

We're through the fence and into the tree cover when he takes a large step in front of me to cut me off and halt my steps. He doesn't need to ask, I can see the questions written on his face.

"We met at a party. He liked me. He wanted…to see me."

"And what about you?"

"I…I can't see him."

"And you told him that?"

"Yes." I shouldn't be angry; this isn't Gale's fault. But I am angry.

He scoffs. "I'm surprised they didn't haul you onto that ship. Or just kill you here. You're either really brave or really stupid."

"It's easy for you to stand there and judge me when you don't know anything about him," I snap, stepping around him and marching to the hollow log where I last hid my bow and quiver.

"What's your problem?" Gale's on my heels, pulling his hunting knives from a nearby hollow in a tree. "They're dangerous and you got yourself mixed up with them."

"He's not dangerous," I sigh. "He's just like you or me. Everyone assumes he's just like his dad but he's not." I shoulder the quiver and grip the bow tight. "And you figure out how not to get mixed up with someone in his position."

"I don't get you," Gale grits his teeth. "You're saying you're fine with him one minute and the next you're saying you got stuck with him."

"Maybe it's both," I huff and turn to walk into the woods.

He's in front of me again. "Katniss."

I set my cold glare at my shoes, but I know it's useless when I look up at my closest friend. "It doesn't matter, Gale. He's not coming back."

But I can see that it does matter to him.

* * *

><p>I spread out the pages and pages of designs across the sofa, chairs, tables and countertops. Prim stands on her toes and frowns. "You're bringing back earmuffs?"<p>

"I guess so."

"You hate earmuffs."

"Not Victor Katniss," I glower. "She loves earmuffs. And pink," I say with disdain as I look at another knee-length floral design.

"You look so nice in pink," my mother offers, lifting a design for shoulder-high gloves off the counter. "You should wear it more often."

Prim and I exchange a look. The knock on the door saves my mother from my eye-roll.

"Hello?" Gale calls as he opens the door and pokes his head inside.

"Come on in!" I yell over my shoulder. My mother winces at the noise. "Sorry," I grin at Prim.

"What's all this?" he asks as he steps inside and papers blow off the sofa in the breeze.

"My talent," I laugh, holding up a picture of a long green dress with a collar of spikes made from antlers.

"That's…nice."

I throw the design on the pile on the sofa and smirk. "Not really. Cinna sent these to me since I apparently have no natural skills."

"You can sing," he argues.

"I'm not singing for the cameras." It always makes me think of Rue now.

"So instead you're putting antlers on dresses?" Gale tries not to laugh.

"They're all the rage!" I mimic the Capital accent and laugh along with Gale and Prim. My mother gives me a sharp look and a disapproving eyebrow. She sighs with a smile and shrugs her shoulders.

"Prim, come help me crush these leaves," she calls, turning into the kitchen.

Gale and I stay in the living room. I pretend to mull over the designs, trying to avoid the unspoken question between us since Peeta left a month ago. Every day gets a little easier as the memory fades, but there is an unresolved tension in our friendship.

"How's your mother?" I ask.

"Fine. Got another laundry client," he offers, examining a checkered cape with disdain.

"Good," I attempt to say brightly.

"How's your friend?"

I turn to face him. I can see he's been waiting to ask for a long time. "I don't know. We said goodbye."

He searches my face, wanting to make sure I haven't lied again. I look at him sadly. I regret the choices that cost me his trust.

"Sorry to hear that. I guess," he says. "It probably would have been nice to have an ally there." I try not to smile. That must have been incredibly hard for Gale to say.

"Probably," I say quietly, stacking a design of hatboxes. "Mom, do we have any twine-"

The noise of the hovercraft is familiar but terrifying all the same. It sounds like it's coming from all around us. Gale and I run to the kitchen. I grab Prim.

"I thought you said this was over!" my mother yells over the din, covering her ears.

"It is! It was!" I yell. I look out the back window. It's not the same hovercraft.

It's a Capital Peacekeeper ship.

"Run!" I yank on Prim's arm and tear towards the front of the house.

"Katniss!" Gale blocks the front door. I see what he saw first. Another hovercraft landing in the front lawn. I look back to Gale in terror. He looks at Prim. "Upstairs!"

"Go upstairs," I tell Prim. "Hide under your bed. Mom-"

"Katniss, don't let them take you!" Prim grips my hands with her small fingers. "I can't lose you!"

"Prim, go!"

But it's too late. The door opens without knocking. I push Prim behind me and stand up straight.

Two Peacekeepers march in without a world. My mother gasps as the kitchen door opens and another set of Peacekeepers enter. They scan the kitchen. The two in front of us scan the living room. Two more enter and march past up, upstairs and out of sight. I feel Prim's fingers clutching my shirt. Gale is motionless beside me. My mother whimpers.

The Peacekeepers from upstairs descend. I see one nod to the Peacekeeper standing closest to me. He raises a small communicator device to his mouth.

"We're clear inside, sir."

I watch dumbstruck as a figure appears in the hatchway of the ship outside my open front door. His white hair is unmistakable. My heart pounds in my ears as his slow steps bring him closer to my home and family. My mother gasps. I reach over and grip her hand. I watch as Peeta appears in the hatchway door. Two Peacekeepers flank him as he follows his father to the front door.

Snow steps into the house first. His greeting smile is sickening. He looks around pleasantly, as though admiring our home. He sighs cheerily and takes a step forward, turning to watch his son as he is escorted inside.

Peeta looks terrible. He looks ashamed as he looks up at me. "Katniss-" he starts in a whisper.

"Miss Katniss Everdeen," Snow finishes, turning with a flourish and stepping over to me. My mother's hand is like a vice on my wrist. "Our 74th Hunger Games victor. Daughter of Lillian and Edmund Everdeen," he eyes my mother. "And older sister to one…Primrose," he notes, peering around me to where Prim is hidden. I flinch and try to block her further.

He stands back up and smiles again at me. "I had to meet the girl who caught my son's eye." He glances at where Peeta stares at the floor. "Shall we have a chat?"

We sit around the table in our dining room, staring at the cups of tea. No one is drinking. Gale stares hard at Peeta from where he sits next to me. Prim trembles on my other side while my mother grips her hand from the end of the table. Peeta stares at his lap. Snow thanks an attendant who brings him an electronic tablet.

"Thank you, Percy." He turns to face me across the table. "Now then. I had a feeling my boy found you interesting after I realized he had sought you out for a tour of our lovely garden. But I had no idea that interest was so…involved." He clicks a few buttons on the tablet as he speaks. "As leader of a country, you can imagine how important it is for me that I am fully aware of all goings on in Panem. Especially in my own family." He pauses to give his son a sharp glare. "So I'm sure you will understand how upsetting it was for me when my engineers in the hovercraft bay were the ones to show me this security video."

He holds up the tablet. My face burns. There are Peeta and I, mouths pressed together, clutching one another outside the hovercraft he brought here last month. Gale's fists clench involuntarily. Snow ends the reel and sets down the tablet.

"And, upon inspection of his quarters, to have his maid turn over these." Snow reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a stack of small square papers. He tosses them on the tables. The photos of my life in Twelve scatter across the tabletop. I look up at Gale as he stares at my betrayal.

"Gale," I whisper softly. I think better and say nothing more.

"And you are…her cousin?" Snow's eyes already know I've lied.

"Yes." Gale answers carefully.

"Of course," he smiles.

Snow inhales sharply and folds his hands on the tablet where it rests on the table. "I do my best to maintain the reputation of my family name," he begins thoughtfully. "It's very important for me that Peeta is respected and admired in the manner that befits someone of his status. And when things like this happen…" He pauses and his knuckles turn white as he takes a moment to contain his rage. He inhales and exhales slowly.

"Needless to say, I've had words with everyone who has seen these images." Prim fidgets in fear. Snow eyes her and I grip her hand. "However, I have no guarantee that this…unpleasantness…has not been shared with others. That it is not now common gossip. So here is how we will handle this."

My stomach drops. Prim's too young to die. Gale has siblings to care for. My mother has patients that need her.

"Katniss will come to the Capital and be housed at my home. Under strict supervision," he gives me a cold glare. "She will be announced as Peeta's companion at the celebration for his eighteenth birthday in two weeks. He will make appearances with her on the Victory Tour, under guard, and upon their return to the Capital at the end of the Tour Peeta will announce their engagement."

Silence hangs in the air. I'm not breathing. My mother lets a sob escape her throat and she covers her mouth. Prim hangs on to my hand. Gale says nothing.

"Dad, that's so quick," Peeta says quietly. "Maybe we should-"

"I hardly think waiting any longer will repair the damage you've done. Clearly you know her well enough that you'd risk your reputation and mine over this," Snow says icily. His anger is well controlled and petrifying. "You will not argue with me again," Snow says with finality like stone. Peeta is silenced. He looks over at me. I stare at the pictures on the table. The one of Prim laughing joyfully is on top.

"Will my family stay here?"

Snow narrows his eyes as he considers me. "Yes."

"Undisturbed?" I ask carefully.

My mother looks at me in horror. I'm being too forward, too reckless. I don't care. He's probably going to have me killed anyway and I'd rather give Gale a chance to get Mom and Prim through the woods and to safety.

"Yes." He smiles. He seems to think we understand one another. I know he's dangerous and he appreciates my fear.

"Then this seems like wonderful news." I plaster a dead-eyed smile on my face. Peeta looks over at me, caught between relief and concern. "Do I have time to pack my things?" I say quickly before he can complicate things.

"You will have plenty of things provided for you," Snow says with the same sickly smile. "But," he adds as my face falls, "if you would like to bring some keepsakes, I suppose I can permit you a few minutes."

Prim and my mother follow me upstairs, but Snow insists Gale must wait downstairs for me. It's already started; I'm only allowed to be around approved persons. I watch him on the sofa opposite Peeta. They say nothing as Snow meanders around my home, eyeing our cherished belongings with disdain.

I climb the stairs slowly, feeling the wooden railing beneath my fingers for the last time. I step into the room that's been home for just a few months. I stare at the dresser, the closet, the bed, the bathroom. I have to figure out what to take that won't be considered dangerous and destroyed.

Prim releases her tears as she walks into my room. I kneel down and take her in my arms.

"You'll be okay, Prim. That's all that matters to me."

"You're going to be gone forever," Prim cries.

"You'll see me on TV," I smile, pulling back from her to wipe her tears. I look at my mother. "You'll come to my wedding," I force cheer into my voice. "I bet Cinna will design the dress. It'll be magnificent."

My mother cries and looks away. I want to punch her for not helping to comfort Prim.

"Help me find what to take," I tell her, standing and moving to the dresser. She sniffs and pulls open the drawers.

"Take this necklace," she says, pulling up the leather cord with the broken arrowhead strung on it. "Dad made this for you."

My mother steps over the dresser, smearing the tears from her face. "Take your hunting belt. With the loops for the game bags. You love that belt," she chokes.

I grab a canvas pack from my closet and throw the belt and necklace in. My hunting boots follow, a shirt my mother made for me, my Reaping dress, and a book on herbs Prim made as a school project.

"Take this," Prim says, reaching into my sock drawer to find the hidden parcel. The dandelion pin shines as she hands it to me. "He'll want you to wear it from now on."

I take it. I remember the dandelion bed. Running through the rows of the flowers in the conservatory. I hold onto the faint hope this won't be the end of my life. I fasten the dandelion on my shirt.

I turn and face my mother and Prim. "I have to go now."

My mother nods. Prim cries. I hold her again as tight as I can. I give my mother a stiff hug. I descend the stairs.

Gale stands and comes to the bottom of the stairs. Snow watches him with disapproval, but he doesn't tell the Peacekeepers to yank him away. I reach the landing and stand in front of him. He opens his arms and I leap into them, hugging him hard.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper as quietly as I can.

"I'll come get you," he murmurs in a barely audible voice.

A Peacekeeper is there immediately, pushing us apart. "This contact is highly inappropriate," he tells us and he uses the butt of his rifle to push Gale three feet away from me.

I stare at Gale's face. I can tell he's fuming with rage. I beg my eyes to tell him to stay calm. Snow is watching him. He knows.

Peeta coughs awkwardly. "Are you ready?" he asks quietly, standing up but remaining by the chair.

"Yes," I smile without meaning it. "Let's go."

I walk to the door, but the Peacekeepers stop me from leaving. "You will wait to be escorted," the shorter one tells me. Peeta comes up beside me. The two Peacekeepers from the living room lead us out. I look over my shoulder to see the two from the kitchen are following us closely.

I see Snow bow to my mother and Prim before two Peacekeepers lead him out behind us.

Walking across the lawn, I try to capture the feel of the earth beneath my feet. The smell of the trees with a faint trace of coal dust. I wish I'd visited the Hob that day. I wish I'd gone swimming. I wish I'd told my friends I loved them.

As we reach the Hovercraft, I see Haymitch standing on his porch. His shirt is untucked and a bottle is in his hand, but I can see he is sober enough. I raise one palm in farewell. He nods. He raises the bottle to his mouth and turns to go back inside.

I climb the ramp carefully. It's dark inside compared to the sunlight of the day, but I can see it's much nicer than the ones used for the Tributes during the Games. The seats are plush and inviting; there appears to be attendants to make Peeta and Snow more comfortable during the short ride. Peeta gestures for me to sit in a seat by the window. I slide my bag under the chair and sit, protecting my few belongings with my legs as a barrier. He sits next to me, a whisper of a smile ghosting over his lips when he notices the dandelion pin on my shirt. Snow sits across from him, unsmiling.

The hatch slams shut and I hear the Peacekeeper pound the sidewall to let the pilot know we're cleared. The ground moves away from my eyes as I look out the window. The sunbeams piercing the small windows dash across the floor as the hovercraft turns around to aim for the Capital. I see my mother, Prim and Gale on the porch. I press three fingers to my lips and then rest the fingers on the window. Prim collapses into Gale's arms.

We lift into the sky.


	4. Chapter 4

My guest quarters may be the most glamorous prison in existence.

There are rich rugs and tapestries everywhere. The bed is enormous, and the headboard is gilded and sculpted with flowers. I run my fingers over the carved flowers in awe. Opening the closet door, I drop my bag on the floor. It's nearly another room in itself. I can walk inside, and there's a mirror taller than me with an ottoman I could lie down on in the center of the floor. Shoes and dresses line the walls. Everything looks elaborate and uncomfortable.

The only thing betraying the opulence is the lock on the door. A thumbprint scan and keypad code are required to get in an out. Mine only works to get in. I can't get out without secondary authorization.

The attendant who had showed me down the hall to my room mistook my alarm when I saw the ID pad. "Oh don't worry," she laughed with her Capital cadence. "They open automatically in the case of fire. And you'll never be alone anyway, so you don't have to fret about that."

That wasn't my fear, but now I wonder if Snow will disable the safety protocols and burn my room down. _Either way, I'm trapped here until I die_, I think numbly. And she's right. I haven't been alone for one moment since we arrived.

The attendant flits around the room, chirping out buttons to call for tea, food, entertainment, how to open curtains, how to work the shower and what time dinner is served. A knock at the door stops her annoying voice.

"Oh, that must be your guardian now."

"You're not my guardian?" I say in surprise.

"Oh no!" she giggles. "Just one of many housekeepers. Your guardian is an esteemed governess. She's excellent at grooming young people for public life."

When I see the hard-faced woman walk in the door, I almost miss Effie Trinket. This woman is stern and unyielding. Her eyes have no light in them, only cold determination. I hate her before she even speaks.

"Miss Everdeen. I am Enobaria Cloister. You will call me Mrs. Cloister." I open my mouth. "You will speak when you are addressed." I close my mouth.

She nods to the attendant, who scurries out of the room and closes the door, locking me in.

"As you have had no formal training and your breeding is questionable, we have a great deal of work to do to make you presentable as a suitable wife for a head of state. You clearly lack the grace of the late Lady Amaranth and from your previous interviews I know you lack the conversational skills of both President and the young master Snow. This is unacceptable and will be corrected."

My hate simmers.

"The first thing that must change is your clothing. Your outfit is atrocious. Go find a suitable afternoon dress in your closet."

I stomp over to my closet room, toeing my pack with my boots and belt hidden inside as far under a pile of petticoats as I can. If she found it, she'd throw everything away. "Mind your poise and posture!" she barks as I shove the dresses right and left.

I have no idea what to wear for an afternoon dress. They all look the same to me. I pull down a seafoam green shift dress with a yoke studded with small amber stones. I hold it up out of the closet.

"That is an informal social engagement dress. Unacceptable."

I hang it back up on the rack and furrow my brow. I find a blue dress with puffed sleeves and a train. She barks that is for estate dinners. She rejects the yellow one-shouldered sheath as private evening wear and the pink skirt with the polka dot blouse as sporting event garb. I want to scream. I have no idea what she wants, and every event she describes sounds terrible.

What did Lady Amaranth used to wear? I close my eyes and focus. Soft colors. Delicate fabrics. Something gentle. I open my eyes and skim the line of dresses.

I spy the soft grey fabric tucked behind an explosion of hot pink tulle. I gently tug the hanger free and pull out the calf-length A-line dress in storm cloud grey. Buttons run to a ribbon belt and the sleeves are short but loose. I hold it up out of the closet, peeking around to see her reaction.

"You are progressing."

I change my clothes and find a pair of matching kitten-heeled pumps. She makes me wash my face, insisting I look filthy and unkempt. She calls for a makeup artist to teach me how to manage my skin.

When Octavia arrives with a cart of supplies, I leap up and run to her.

"Katniss!" she squeals, opening her arms.

The rap on my outstretched arm is painful. Enobaria is at my elbow, a long wand-like wooden stick clutched in her fist. "We do not run or squeal," she announces with slit eyes at me, then Octavia. "Pigs squeal."

"She's my friend," I object.

"She's your makeup artist. And you will greet your _employee_ with decorum and grace. Now curtsy."

My reunion with Octavia is muted and unpleasant. Enobaria refuses to leave for even five minutes, so we can't speak of anything I want to. I ask after Cinna and the rest of the prep team, but can't get the details I want with a chaperone present. I solemnly watch her apply pale lipstick, a sweep of blush, mascara and powder my face.

"Thank you, Octavia," Enobaria says dismissively. "You may go now."

Octavia glances at me. "Um. Thank you, Miss Everdeen," she says stiffly. "I hope to serve you again soon."

As she goes without a hug, without a wave, I begin to understand the loneliness in Peeta's voice.

Enobaria turns to me. "Now. Tea is served in half an hour, so we will practice your poise and conversation skills until you are sent for."

When the knock comes to the door, the books have fallen off my head four times and I've had my knuckles rapped six times for poor grammar. "Mrs. Cloister? Tea will be served in the drawing room presently," I hear Quarry say to her from outside the door. I wonder if no men will be allowed to set foot in my room again.

Enobaria leads me out the door and I listen to the doors lock behind me. My eyes dart around the hall. I can't tell which doors lead outside; everything looks the same. The heavy wooden doors are as identical as the ones in the hallway to the conservatory. I wonder if I should make a run towards the opposite end of the hall when I spot the armed Peacekeepers rounding the corner as they pace the hall. I am trapped.

We round a corner.

"Portia?" I blurt out her name before I remember my lesson. Enobaria elbows me in the ribs. I ignore her.

Portia looks tired. She's standing outside a room with a ceiling-high door, thumbing through a tablet with great concentration.

"Kat-Miss Everdeen," she smiles weakly. "So good to see you again."

I stare at her. "I thought…I feared you had…lost your post." I measure my words carefully, casting glances at my guardian.

"Thank you for your concern," she says with equal stiffness. "I was chastised, but Master Snow was able to preserve my employment."

Enobaria scoffs. "Which is more than you deserved, I understand." Portia wilts a little. My governess turns to me. "If you expect you will receive the same leniency from me or anyone else here you are grossly mistaken."

She knocks harshly on the tall door, ignoring Portia, who turns her eyes back to her work. The door slides open slowly.

"Ah, Miss Everdeen. Welcome to my home."

Snow is seated at a glass table with ornate, gilded legs. An elaborate silver tea service is laid out on the table. Peeta sits at the place next to him, his trademark smile returning to his face as he sees me.

I take one step forward towards the table and feel Enobaria's icy fingers on my wrist. I glance at and she eyes me sternly. "You will wait to be invited."

"I see Mrs. Cloister has already begun your etiquette lessons," Snow chuckles as I glare at her. "She can be very…thorough. Please sit," he says as he gestures to the open space by my soon-to-be fiancé. "You may go, Enobaria. I will have Miss Everdeen delivered back to your care after tea."

I am released and Peeta and Snow stand as I step to the table. I allow an attendant to pull my chair out and slide it in under me. The men sit as I do, and I unfold the napkin into my lap to wait for further instruction.

"Well, as you will be my daughter-in-law," my skin crawls at his words, "I think we ought to get better acquainted."

Peeta interrupts politely. "Katniss is a connoisseur of plants," he attempts. "She assists her mother with herbal remedies."

"Do you?" Snow says with a bored air.

"I am less skilled than she," I recite my lesson awkwardly. I don't want to talk about my family.

"They use aloe to treat burns," Peeta says eagerly, dropping two perfectly white cubes into his tea and stirring the steaming drink with the smallest spoon. I take note frantically: Use the tongs for sugar. Smallest spoon for stirring. "Apparently it's very soothing. I think Pollux should grow some here in the gardens."

"Now, now," Snow chuckles. "We have no need of primitive cures, my boy. The Districts are not as advanced in medical treatments as we are."

Peeta frowns. "I was meaning to suggest…Maybe…we should have a hospital built in the Districts. Three's industries could certainly support medical technology."

Snow's smile flickers ever so slightly. "Their industry is focused on technological advancement of weaponry, Peeta. Not medicine."

"But why not expand?"

"Expand?"

I'm surprised as well at Peeta's eager brazenness.

"Couldn't they do more? If we reduced funding the weapons testing on what was District Thirteen we could build a hospital in Three and maybe a smaller clinic in Six as well. I was actually working on the numbers during my math lessons, and with only-"

"We will not reduce the testing," Snow says ridigly. "The security of our nation depends on our advanced technology. Do you think the Districts are prepared to defend themselves against invaders? Do you think they are trained for the kind of warfare we are? No, they're not. Because their focus should be on the industry so ours can be on defense. I will not hear this suggestion from you again."

Peeta slumps back in his chair. "Yes, Father."

The attendant pours tea and I grab the cup, finding a reason to avoid conversation.

"Is that Amaranth's pin?"

I suddenly remember moving the pin from my pullover to the grey dress. "I gave it to her," Peeta says quickly. "When she left the Capital."

Snow's eyes are locked on the pin. He seems entranced by it. "It becomes you," he says finally, smiling.

"Thank you," I manage.

A knock at the door announces a highly decorated general. "Ah, Halperin. Have you come to join us?" Snow begins to smile, but the expression on his adviser's face halts his pleasantries.

"Sir," the man called Halperin nods. "Master Snow. Miss," he bows again to Peeta and I. "Your presence is needed in the Executive Assembly."

Snow stands quickly and throws his napkin on the table. The warmth of the afternoon sun cannot reach his ashen and angry face. He leaves without saying goodbye, the attendant following at his heels. He pushes Portia back in the room roughly to watch us.

As the door slams, a painfully awkward silence settles over the three of us.

"Dandelion tea," I note. "From your garden?"

"Katniss, I am sorry, I never meant for-" he bursts out, the words tumbling forth. "Portia, can…can I have a minute?"

She smiles at him. "Oh, Peeta. You always ask." She stands and walks to the opposite end of the room to stare out the window, lost in her own thoughts.

He draws his chair closer to me. "Katniss, I'm…I should have…" he struggles. "I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say," I say blandly.

"I just…I can't say I didn't want this," he confesses, as though embarrassed. "I wanted you here. Or to be there with you. Just…But I swear," he meets my eye. "I did not do this on purpose. I know you had a life in Twelve."

"And now I have a life here," I force out with a smile.

He sighs, eyeing me. He leans in close, turning his lips to my ear. He lowers his voice so Portia won't hear him. "Will you be happy here? With me?" His breath tickles my ear. "Please tell me."

_What do I say? _Confess I want to go home? That I never intended to see him again? I can't. Even if he did let me go, would Snow would hunt me down if I broke his son's heart? I imagine the sort of "accident" that would befall me. Or my family. Most certainly Gale-after what Snow suspects.

"I am happy," I lie. I turn to smile at him. "I'm happy."

Portia steps over to the table and clears her throat. He's sitting very, very close to me. "Sorry," he mutters. "I'm sorry, Portia," he begins again. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble either."  
>"I thought they'd…I thought you-" I can't say what I want to about his father in front of Peeta. Luckily I don't need to.<p>

"No, no," Portia soothes. "Peeta stood up for me. He was very gallant," she smiles at her charge.

"It was my fault," Peeta insists. "The falsified logs have my security clearance all over them; they know you had nothing to do with it." He turns back to me. "It's my fault," he repeats. "I screwed up erasing the logs. I didn't think there was a backup server here. I…just didn't think."

"Will my family be all right?" I ask him. He furrows his brow. "I mean, I don't want them…chastised for my indiscretions."

"I'll see to it personally." He suddenly smiles. "Maybe…we can call them? To let them know you've arrived safely?"

Portia glances at the phone that sits by a decorative writing desk under a window. "This isn't your room," she says, relaying her meaning carefully. This phone is bugged.

"It will be a quick call," he plays along, standing and gesturing for me to follow him. "Just to say she's here and safe."

I gratefully dog his heels to the desk. He lifts the phone and I notice he dials the phone number even I didn't know by heart. He hands me the receiver.

"Hello?" my mother's voice is frightened on the other end.

"Mom!" I force myself not to sob when I hear her break. We are being recorded.

"Oh Katniss," she cries. "Are you all right? Is everything-"  
>"Peeta suggested I call and let you know I arrived safely." I apply a strange rhythm to my words, barging in to keep her from saying anything precarious.<p>

"How thoughtful," she recovers. "It's nice to hear he's concerned for your family."

"He is," I whisper to her. "My room is incredible. It's larger than our house," I say enthusiastically. "The clothing and food is outstanding. You'll be so surprised at my…wedding." My stomach muscles contract.

"Your wedding," my mother breathes mournfully. "My little girl."

"I should get back to tea," I look up at Peeta watching me. "I don't want to interrupt the schedule."

"Of course not," my mother says.

"Give Prim my love. Say hi to my cousins."

"I will. Katniss."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

The dial tone buzzes. I hand him back the receiver and Peeta hangs up the phone. I stare at the shiny black phone.

* * *

><p>I lie awake in the overstuffed bed. I'd barely gotten used to the soft bed in my Victor's home. I'm used to the cot Prim and I shared; the floor of the cave where I found shelter; the tree I shared with Rue.<p>

I roll over on my stomach and stare at the moonlight leaking in under the curtains. In the winter, hunting with Gale, the moon would still be out when we'd get to the woods before school The night would be silent and frozen, every move an animal made would resonate back to us. I wipe my eyes. I push the memory from my mind.

I roll on my back and stare at the ceiling. It was warm the night Peeta showed me the conservatory. The stars were dimmed from the city lights. Not like the night in the meadow. Where we could see every star in the sky.

He'll be my fiancé in three months. Not so much a stranger, but so much I don't know. I know he's kind, I remind myself. I know he cares about me enough to risk his own standing with his father. I know he can love. I know he still reveres his devoted mother. I know he wants more for this country than his father has given it. But I still don't know plenty. About what my life will be like here, away from my family and friends, from green fields and tall trees and fresh air.

The despair is only just tugging at me, but I can see how years of this would drive Amaranth to drown herself. She was already drowning here.

* * *

><p>Days crawl by as though time was made of molasses. Even during quiet reflection times, I am not alone. I'm nearly mad with boredom when a surprise arrives.<p>

"Cinna!" I blurt out in surprise. Enobaria raps my knuckles with her switch.

"Miss Everdeen," he bows to me with a warm smile. I want to run and hug him, but I can see my governess is waiting for another slip up, her wand itching to strike my hands again.

"What are you – what brings you to the President's home?" I remember my careful wording, practiced for hours.

"Young Master Snow's birthday is tonight," he says gently. "I've been summoned to present a suitable dress for your announcement."

I hadn't realized the time had passed so quickly. I'd been here two weeks already. It was hard to tell what day it was when every day was the same. Wake up. Outfit carefully selected. Hair and makeup lesson. Breakfast delivered, cleared. Lessons about the country. Lessons about diplomats. Lunch delivered, cleared, doors locked again. Lessons about presentation. Lessons about living a public life. Tea with Peeta and his father, largely silent or at the least uncomfortable.

Tonight I would be announced and then from each day forward, I'd be joining them for lunch and dinner. I'd at least be allowed to be seen in public with Peeta now, with our chaperones. We'd be able to talk again. Maybe I'd be able to get to know better him before our wedding.

"I'd nearly forgotten with all the excitement," I say dryly. I see him suppress a sad laugh. "I'm sure you've selected something marvelous; your designs are always inspired."

Cinna bows again. "You are too kind, Miss Everdeen."

"You are too modest," I curtsy.

He gestures for me to take a seat. He turns to open a wheeled trunk two attendants have hauled in.

"First and foremost, no red or black," Enobaria interrupts. "She's not to look like a tart."

I roll my eyes. I wore nearly only red and black last year throughout the Games. Now apparently it's not good for my presentation?

"I thought that since he first met you in this," he says as he pulls out the pink dress I wore to my Victor's Reception, "we should follow the same lines. As a gesture towards the moment you fell in love." I appreciate the look of apology he gives me when saying this.

His creation is breathtaking. A pale silver dress in the same fashion as the pink dress, but with a straight necklace. "For added modesty," he nods to Enobaria. She bows her head in approval. The gauzy sash that ties around the waist is studded with sequins and tiny clear beads, and the straps are twisted gauze. It falls with a small train in back, but rises ever so slightly in the front. "So you can dance," Cinna tells me. "I'm sure you'll be celebrating late into the night."

"It's incredible. Of course," I tell him.

"The shoes," Enobaria says, "must be of a reasonable height."

"Of course," he says. He digs through the trunk and hauls out two pairs of shoes. "These sandals are about two inches tall-"

"She shouldn't be showing toes in fall," Enobaria insists.

Cinna glances at me. I can't believe she's testing the patience of the most tolerant person I know. "Well, then I think you'll be wearing these."

I take the smoky pumps from him. "Are they…clear?" I eye the color as it seems to change in my hands.

"They're a bit tricky," he says. "They're smoke colored, but they will pick up the colors around them and shift colors. I designed them myself."

"Amazing," I murmur, turning them over again.

"Thank you," Enobaria says in a barely gracious voice. "Please summon your prep team to ready Miss Everdeen for her announcement."

Enobaria has me strip in front of the mirror and I realize that prep teams and stylists must have great liberties here. I imagine it's because so much importance is placed on how I look, not how I feel. She begins to yank the dress over my head when Cinna returns and offers to assist. He very gently slides the dress over me and I tune out Enobaria while I see him adjust straps, tie the sash, and press a pin between his lips as he sews final alterations to make it fall perfectly.

When Flavius, Octavia and Venia arrive, they can't help but gawk. I do look incredible.

"He's going to fall in love all over again," Flavius purrs as he drops my hand into a bowl of warm soapy water and fishes out a toolkit of files and polish.

"It's the perfect compliment for your eyes," Octavia grins and she scrubs moisturizer on my face.

"Wait until you see the wedding dress," Venia squeaks as she combs my hair. She claps her hand over her mouth. "Oops! I'm sorry Cinna! I forgot I'm not supposed to say anything."

I tear my face away from the women and look at Cinna. "You've already started? He hasn't even proposed."

Cinna looks at where Enobaria sits engrossed in a magazine. "I was told the wedding would follow the engagement very quickly."

"How quickly?"

Enobaria answers without looking up. "One week."

My jaw drops. "A week? But that's…so fast."

"Well, Master Snow has the disposal of the whole country. Why wait?" she shrugs and turns back to her magazine. "I understand he's already designed the cake personally with that…chef." She sniffs her disapproval of Chef Sae. I've met the unkempt and overly cheerful woman before on a tour of the kitchen. When I learned her family was from Twelve I immediately liked her, and as immediately Enobaria did not.

Octavia clucks. "Oh, how sweet. I bet soon he'll be designing the nursery!"

For a moment I imagine running to the conservatory, breaking a glass wall and tearing across the garden grounds. I calm my racing heart.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I smile at her.

* * *

><p>I'm standing at the entrance hall again. It's only been three months, but it seems like that Victor's Reception was years ago. Everything is the same. I must be different.<p>

Enobaria stands by, bored and listless. She will have to maintain her distance from me during the party; I have to appear to know what I'm doing. I'm nervous. I shift my weight on my high heels.

"Do your feet hurt?" Peeta asks quietly as we wait to enter the ballroom.

"No, I'm just anxious to get inside."

"Me too. My birthdays are usually pretty boring, but now that you're here," he blushes, "it will be interesting."

I hear them announce the President and turn my face back to the entrance curtain. I hear his voice take over the loudspeaker. He thanks the audience for coming, says a few words about how proud is to share this day with such distinguished guests. He calls for his son to join him on stage.

Peeta checks to make sure Enobaria isn't watching and squeezes my hand. "See you in a minute."

The microphone squeaks as he takes it from his father. He thanks the guests for coming again and lets their applause fade. Then it's the moment I've been anticipating. Maybe dreading. "I have a very special announcement this night. I know there's been speculation about my…attachment to a certain Victor." There are tittles of excited laughter through the crowd. "I'm very pleased to announce, on this very important day, my companion and the object of my affection, Katniss Everdeen."

"Affection!" Enobaria huffs. "What inappropriate language."

My eyes are looking at her, but my mind is still on the word affection.

"Well, go on."

I follow her instructions and step through the curtain. Just as before, an explosion of applause greets me. The flashbulbs are blinding and I again raise my hand to shield my eyes. I remember to smile and wave. I see a group of well-dressed girls flanked by what appears to be their wealthy fathers glaring at me. I say a silent thank you to Cinna. I do outshine them all tonight because of him. I look worthy of royalty.

A hand reaches out and catches mine and I see Peeta's smile through the blinding flashes. He leads me over to the dance floor while the photographers take thousands of pictures. I wince when I see the displays of food along the wall and know how many starving children in Panem could die tonight while the Capital celebrates their native son.

"You look radiant," Peeta beams as other couples move around us.

"Thank you," I demur. "You as well."

"I asked Cinna to touch up this suit," he admits. "I didn't want to look too bad next to you."

I can feel myself blushing. "Don't be ridiculous," I smile.

"I'm not!" he protests happily.

He spins me around and I laugh when I slip a little. "I don't think I practiced dancing enough."

He scoffs. "I told them you didn't need any of that. You're perfect as you are."

"Now you're absolutely being ridiculous," I tell him.

"I didn't fall for you because of your waltz," he smiles.

The musicians finish their song and we applaud. "Let's eat something, I'm famished," Peeta suggests and takes my hand as he leads me to the banquet table.

"Katniss! Yoo-hoo!"

"Oh no," I mutter under my breath before turning around. "Effie! My you look…unbelievable."

For a moment I think it's a live bird struggling to free itself from the disaster of blue curls rioting over her head. When I look harder, I realize it's a little mechanical doll flapping its wings.

"Does it look so life-like?" Effie comments proudly. "I tried to get a real bird but Venia said it would only mess in my hair. And apparently you can't refuse to feed this endangered species or something."

I'm gawking at her so Peeta fills in the conversation. "I'm so glad you could make it. I know you're busy getting ready for the tour."

"Oh yes! There's so much to do now that you're joining us," she gushes. "They've added your cars to the train this morning."

"Cars?" he asks with eyebrows raised.

"Sleeping quarters, your recreation car, a study car," Effie lists out cheerfully. "They had to modify those supply cars quite a bit!"

Peeta huffs. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"This is exactly what I mean," he sputters. "These aren't just unused cars lying around, they're supply cars that go to the Districts," he says as he turns to me. "It's nearly winter and it's going to throw off the food and fuel deliveries for half the Districts yanking those cars to fill with books I'm not going to read in two weeks." He furrows his brow. "I'll be back."

He heads towards his Father. Effie and I are entranced watching him.

"He is…unusual, isn't he?" Effie murmurs with a furrowed brow.

"He is," I breathe.

Snow looks annoyed at whatever Peeta is saying to him, and when he responds Peeta is not pleased with the answer. He dismisses his son with an angry wave and then turns his back resolutely to address a group of dignitaries. Peeta frowns and glances over at me. I give him an apologetic shrug. He sets his jaw.

I watch him march over to Portia, who is laughing with Cinna at a table of pink and green striated dessert glasses. He nods and says something that makes Cinna smile and bow. He whispers something in Portia's ear. She looks as though she's going to protest, but his pleading looks makes her concede and nod. He smiles and takes her hand in both of his. I read his lips say thank you before he returns to my side.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Oh, I had to get a little creative," he smiles as he rejoins us. "Don't worry about it." He turns to Effie. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"

Effie is a lively addition to the table and I track down Cinna to beg him to join us to keep me from laughing at her hair or clothing. Portia is genuinely surprised to be asked to sit with us, but does so graciously. She sits next to me and compliments my dress.

"It's all Cinna," I eye my stylist. "He could dress up a goat and pass it off as a princess. Oh!" I cover my mouth. "That wasn't a ladylike thing to say."

Peeta drops his fork and covers his face. I glance up nervously until I realize he's laughing so hard tears are streaking his cheeks. It starts me off laughing and then Portia and Cinna join us. Effie looks more surprised and confused about the idea of a goat in a dress.

Peeta gasps for air and uses his napkin to wipe his eyes. "We should have your sister's goat up for the ring bearer," he laughs. "We can dress her up and no one will notice the difference."

"Oh Katniss," Effie sighs. "I'm so happy for you! And to think last year you were nearly unsalvageable."

I again have to try not to be too insulted by Effie Trinket. "Thank you," I grit out.

Peeta's trying not to laugh and I glare at him. "She was always wonderful," he protests through his giggles.

"You certainly thought so," Portia grins into her wine glass. She catches me glancing over at her.

Peeta blushes furiously. "Portia…"

"Oh you were so obvious," she laughs. She turns to me and scoots her chair in. "He never watched every night of the Games before you, you know." I glance over at surprise. He stares at his plate in appreciative embarrassment. "But this year, every night we had to watch you and see how you were progressing. I've never seen you attached to anyone like that," she smiles fondly at him. "I can't imagine how much of your fortune you spent on that antibiotic when Katniss got sick from the polluted water."

I knock over my champagne glass. "You sponsored me?"

He's pale now. "Portia!" he hisses, glancing around the room quickly. She covers her mouth and looks over her shoulder.

"You can't tell anyone," he leans in to me. His eyes dart around the table. "No one can speak a word of this." He looks back to me. "It's forbidden for Capital staff to get involved in the betting and sponsoring," he whispers. "I don't want them to revoke your winnings."

The table shares an uncomfortable silence before Effie breaks in to talk about the latest fashion trend with Cinna. He mentions he saw a design of mine with antlers and thinks it'll catch like wildfire. They immerse themselves in the conversation but I'm still wrapped up in this new discovery.

I lean in ever so slightly. "Thank you."

Peeta glances over.

"You saved my life," I tell him. "I would have died without that medicine."

He doesn't answer, just stabs his fork at a tomato with blue leaves.

"Why did you send it? You barely knew me then," I murmur.

"Because…you sang to Rue," he whispers, eyes on the tomato as it rolls away from the fork tines.

A tapping glass announces the arrival of the cake from their adjoining service kitchen. Peeta smiles as he sees me gaping at the towering confection.

"Do you like it?" he asks, as he leads me by the hand down to the cart wheeled in by three waiters.

"I've never seen anything like this," I breathe. It's four layers tall and painted in the most beautiful colors. Candles sparkle as they burn spring from each layer. "And those flowers, there's so realis-" I stare. "Are those katniss flowers?"

He grins. "I've been taking lessons with Sae. She let me help make this."

I'm torn between staring at him and staring at the cake. Both are unbelievable.

"Make a wish." I look up to see President Snow standing opposite us at the cake. He smiles proudly at his son. "Make a wish, Peeta."

Peeta thinks for a moment. A few audience members call out in agreement for him to make a wish. He smiles and looks at the gathering around us.

"I don't need to. I already have what I wanted," he says, looking at me. The flashbulbs burst into light as he leans over and kisses me.

I'm blushing as he blows out the candles and the audience cheers. I know I'm being videotaped. I know I'm being photographed. I know this will end up in the mandatory viewing news hour for all of Panem. But I can't stop my smiling. Or laughing when he puts a sugar formed katniss flower between his lips and pulls me to the dance floor. Or letting my arms float around him as we dance and talk for hours.

Dawn is breaking when Enobaria escorts me back to my room. "You performed adequately," she says in her typically gruff tone. "Your grammar and posture both need further attention, but it appears that no one doubted you had the capability to behave as a lady should."

"Thank you," I sigh, rolling my eyes in the dim light.

"I expect you to remember your teachings. I don't want to be recalled from my next engagement to correct your behavior."

"Your new engagement?" I nearly walk into the door as she enters her security code at the panel.

"Yes, now that you've been announced my work is completed. I have other charges lined up," she states, opening the door and ushering me inside. "A mayor's son, I understand. Four years old. A much better age to begin this sort of training. It takes better."

"Who will look after me now?" I ask, walking inside my room. I nearly kick off my shoes right there before realizing this is what she was referring to. I force myself to glide to my closet to use the ottoman for balance.

"Some previous Victor's been hired to guard you, I hear."

"Guard me?" I call from the closet.

"You're a public figure now," she calls back. "It's far more dangerous for you to be out and about. She'll spend a few weeks with you getting to know the schedule and then accompany you on the Victory Tour. That way she'll know how best to guard you by the time you both Mentor the Quarter Quell."

"Who is she?"

"That Victor from Seven. The one who likes axes."

I rack my brain. There's only been a few Victors from Districts other than One and Two. Seven had a handful of male winners from the boys that worked in the lumber industry with their families. But the girl who won a five or six years ago…I can't remember her name.

"Jasmine? Josephine? Something like that," Enobaria shrugs off. "Some common name."

"What's she like?" I ask, tugging my dress off and searching for my nightclothes.

"She's your guard, it doesn't matter what she's like."

I sigh. I guess I won't have a friend here after all.

Curled up under the blankets, I breathe a sigh of relief. The anticipation of this day had worn on me, but now at least one hurdle is over. I'm officially attached to the heir of Panem. No more hiding in this room and torturous lessons. Just a Victory Tour left. Then a wedding.

I roll over, trying to fight the panic. _He's not unkind,_ I remind myself. _I like him. He's caring and intelligent. He dotes on me. He'd be a good father. _But the fear stirs again. _I'm not ready. I'm still afraid. But I have to be ready. I have to look out for Prim. For Gale._

I fall into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Johanna Mason clearly did not take any etiquette lessons. She props her boots up on my makeup vanity and surveys my suite with a whistle. "This place is bigger than my house."

"And undoubtedly cleaner," Enobaria sniffs at her appearance. She turns to me. "I regret to leave you in such hands, Miss Everdeen. I suppose I must trust you to remember your teachings on your own as you will find no further guidance."

I glance at Johanna, but she's picking at her nails with a jeweled bobby pin.

"I'll do my best. Thank you, Mrs. Cloister," I curtsy.

Enobaria gives Johanna one more disdainful glance before she enters her security code on the keypad and leaves. The door clicks behind her with a defining _thunk_.

Johanna and I look at one another for a full minute in silence.

"So what the hell am I supposed to do with you?"

"I think," I cough, "you're here to keep me safe."

"From what? We're in a padded cell."

"What did they tell you when they hired you?" I ask.

She laughs with contempt. "Girly, I wasn't _hired_. They picked me up in my backyard and told me I was coming here to look after you." She drops the bobby pin and stands up to look out the window. She looks over her shoulder at me. "As I imagine you were."

At least I won't have to lie to her.

"It's not a bad prison, I guess," she notes, pulling the curtains back to look at the gardens. "As far as strangers go, I hear Snow's kid is pretty nice."

"He is," I offer. "I met him before…"

"Before you got kidnapped?" she asks cheerfully. "Or bride-napped?" she snickers at her own joke. I must look crestfallen, but she walks back over to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, kid. I'm trying to lighten the mood a little."

"It's all right," I sigh. "And I'm not a kid anyway, I'll be seventeen by the wedding."

"Practically an old maid." She rolls her eyes. She starts to move around the room, picking up the crystal comb set and examining them with curiosity. "So what is your captor like?"

"Snow? He's…stern." I say carefully. She could be spying. "He's very protective of his son. Um. He's really busy."

"Not him, Peeta."

"Peeta?" I hadn't thought of him as my captor. I guess I figured he was stuck with me as well. But the difference is he wanted it that way.

"He's going to be a good President," I tell her. She's surprised.

"Really?" she sounds unconvinced.

"Yes," I demand. "He has some amazing ideas on how to improve life in the Districts."

"Well won't that be interesting," she sneers at my embroidered pillows. "If he ever gets to, of course."

"What?"

"Oh nothing," she smiles. "I just can't imagine our illustrious leader every leaving us."

I can't decide if she's placating or mocking me. I don't like her disdain for Peeta, but I ache for the free way she expresses herself. I just don't know what to make of my new guardian.

"I guess I'll get to make up my mind when I meet him. When's tea?"

Snow is absent from tea, and Peeta offers his apologies. "He was really looking forward to meeting you personally," he tells Johanna. "You were highly recommended by Mr. Odair." Her nostrils flare as she controls her sarcasm.

"So you were a Victor?" Portia inquires as she spreads her napkin over her lap.

"Yeah. Six years ago now," Johanna says as she reaches across the table to snag a biscuit.

"Which District?"

"Seven. Lumber."

"Oh yes!" Peeta remembers. "You were brilliant with axes, I recall."

She flushes with pride. "Well. Yeah."

Peeta laughs at her admission. "Have you seen Katniss with her arrows? She's incredible."

"I did," she says as she looks at me. "My tributes died pretty quickly this year. I had plenty of time to watch."

My heart jumps. The boy from Seven. He had been reaching the pack I grabbed with Clove's knife had caught him in the spine. I'd carried his blood on my face into the woods. I hadn't thought about him again. I don't even know when the girl died.

"I'm so sorry for your losses." Peeta's words mirror my thoughts. I can see they stun Johanna when she doesn't know how to respond.

"Branch and Petiole were exceptional in their interviews. I was very impressed by her knowledge of the plants in the arena; they weren't native to Seven. And I heard he was remarkably good with starting fires, even with damp wood, in the Training Center."

I try not to gloat with vanity, but he's proving me right. Her jaw is nearly on the floor.

"Thank you," she mutters. "I didn't get to spend much time with them, but they were great kids." She sips her tea quietly.

"Where's your father?" I ask politely. I don't want to appear too happy he's not there.

"There was an accident in Eleven," he says gravely. "One of the granaries caught fire. They were trying to contain it from spreading to the wheat fields."

Portia gasps. "Were there injuries?"

He nods unhappily. "A few deaths. A lot of injuries." He turns to me with a sad smile. "I had Pollux send a crate of aloe. I'd been growing it anyway. It might not help with the infection, but the pain…" he trails off.

Johanna watches him. "How did the granary catch fire?"

He frowns. "I…I didn't ask-"

"It seemed that most of those machines were manual," she pushes. "There weren't electrical currents or anything running through those buildings. It's been a rainy year; it's not dry. So how would a fire start?"

The table is silent. Peeta looks thoughtful. Portia is stricken. I watch Johanna carefully.

I don't think I should trust her.

* * *

><p>I'm braiding my hair while she tosses a pillow onto the oversized sofa in my quarters. "This couch is the same size as a bed," she mutters. "Ridiculous. Still wanted my own room in this stupid place."<p>

I tie the plait and turn to her. "Why did ask? About the fire?"

She looks up and yanks her shirt over her head. I look away, startled by her naked form. "What?"

"At tea," I say to the vanity table and I hear her unzip her boots. "When you asked about the fire. It sounded…like you knew something about it."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"I don't." I hear her settling into the sofa and look over as she hauls the covers up to her armpits.

I frown but click off the light and stumble over to my bed. We lay in silence.

"Johanna?"

"Yeah?"

"How would a fire start in a rainy season?"

"Someone sets it."

* * *

><p>She may not be one for manners, but Johanna is much more fun than Enobaria. She tells the Peacekeepers she needs to practice target throwing and gets us access to the grounds surrounding the gardens.<p>

She nails the targets. I watch her throw axes at the targets wistfully.

"Where's your bow?"

"Hunh?" She's caught me staring at the splintered bullseye.

"Where. Is. Your. Bow."

"At home?"

"Then we better get you a new one." She marches over to the Peacekeepers watching us from the entrance of the hedge maze. She's speaking with the lead guard when I catch up with her.

"Absolutely not." The Chief Peacekeeper resolutely crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"She's supposed to be mentoring in two months. How is she supposed to stay current in her weapons training?"

"The young master's companion is not to be armed. President Snow was clear on this."

"But he's not even here!" Johanna shouts. "He's supposed to be flying hovercrafts or some crap."

"Absolutely not."

She sighs. She turns to me. "Want to try my axes?"

I glance at the Chief Peacekeeper. He purses his lips to a thin line. "I guess not."

She lets out an exasperated sigh and stomps back to the targets muttering to herself. I follow her.

"It's fine, Johanna. It's only been a few weeks, really. I was still shooting at home before..."

"Before you got snatched," she snarls.

"Yeah," I sigh.

She narrows her eyes at the target. A devious smile spreads over her mouth, as though she's been possessed by a wicked little thought. "Well. It's a good thing Blondie will do whatever you want then, isn't it?"

She takes a throwing stance and bracing her legs. She lines up her shot and stares down the bullseye. The axe flies with precision and pierces the heart of the target cleanly.

The next day Portia delivers a bow that is breathtaking in its beauty. The cherry wood gleams with a high polish that must have taken hours to achieve. The handhold is wound with soft lambskin to cushion my palm. Gold plating reinforces the wood where the bow is stretched tight. When she hands me the quiver of arrows, I spy the note tucked into the feathers. I know the handwriting by now.

_Hope this is all right. If you don't like it, just give Portia the notes on what you want and I'll get it for you. Shoot straight. Peeta. _

He'd drawn a heart with an arrow through it by his name.

"Please tell him it's perfect. It's beautiful."

Portia gives me a gap-toothed grin. "Don't tell him I told you, but…" she leans in. "He was saving it for your engagement party."

"What?"

"He had it made for you," she tells me.

Johanna reaches over and closes my open mouth. "Damn. Blondie's got taste."

"He consulted with a few of the weapons specialists that work for the Gamemakers," Portia says, leaning against one of the overstuffed ottomans the dot the room.

"I can't believe he went to all that trouble," I whisper, feeling its weight and balance in my hand.

"Really?" Portia's attempts at sarcasm are not nearly as biting as Johanna's.

"He's just…surprising me. Always," I blush again.

"He really does care for you," Portia says suddenly. She startles me with her frankness. She stands up.

"Katniss, I know this situation is difficult for you. It's not easy to be away from your family suddenly," she says with a familiar-looking pain on her face. "And I know…you've probably heard the rumors. About Amaranth," she stammers. "But he's not…Peeta's…He'll work very hard to keep you happy," she finishes.

The bow is shaking in my hand and Johanna reaches over and takes it from me. "Yes," I get out. "I know. I know he's a good man."

"I just," she shakes her head. "I should go."

She hurries towards the door. "I don't know the code," she says, flustered. "Miss Mason, please let me out."

"Portia," I begin.

"I shouldn't have said anything," she says while Johanna enters her security code. "I just…I know he worries that you're not happy like he is."

"Tell him I'm happy."

She searches my face carefully then nods before leaving us.

Johanna stands at the open door, watching me. She holds out the bow to me. "Let's go outside."

* * *

><p>"It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received," I tell him honestly as the attendant pushes my chair in under me. "Really. I can't imagine anything more beautiful."<p>

"I can," he gives me a mischievous grin. I feel my cheeks grow hot. I see Johanna roll her eyes as she spreads her napkin over her lap.

"And what has my boy spend a fortune on now?" Johanna stiffens as Snow appears in the doorway with his usual insidious smile. I know her anxiety well. He strolls over and the attendant hurries to pull his chair out for him. He settles in and the attendant slides the chair to the table.

"You must be Miss Mason," he says, extending his hand. She shakes it warily. "I understand you are the finest female Victor living today."

"That's a lot to live up to," she breathes. "I mean, I know I'm good…"

"Nonsense," Snow smiles. It makes my skin crawl to see his pink shaded teeth. "I've watched your tapes personally. I do think you'll be an excellent guard for my son's companion."

"Well, I'll do my best," she laughs nervously into her water glass.

"I do hope you'll do better than that." His tone is not humorous. She nods gravely.  
>"Now," he says, unfolding his napkin. "What have you given our guest that is making her blush so? Do I need to check our coffers? Or perhaps the jewelry chest?"<p>

"An early engagement gift," Peeta stumbles in response.

"Of…?"

"A bow."

Snow is frozen, silent with his soup spoon gripped in his hand. I don't think anyone is breathing.

"A bow," he repeats quietly.

"To practice," Peeta says desperately. "Training her Tribute next year. Less than a year. She hasn't been training or anything since she came here and I thought, well, that's not really fair for the next Tribute from Twelve-"

"A bow." Snow repeats loudly, slamming the handle of the spoon on the table.

We are silenced.

"Of course!" He laughs loudly, a mirthless noise that echoes around the dining hall, creating a cacophony that rattles my brain. "A perfect gift for your bride. The only thing I would expressly forbid. I should not expect anything less from you."

"And where is this bow now?"

"With Peacekeeper Malloy," I cough out the soup I had shoved in my mouth. "He was going to keep it for me. I would only ever use it under supervision outside your home, sir."

He folds his hands. "And your axes?"

Johanna realizes he's speaking to her. "With Malloy."

"All of them?"

She glances at me. "No."

There is a slight rustle over my shoulder. I glance to the attendants and my heart stops for a moment. The both have firearms pointed at Johanna.

"Dad!" Peeta makes to stand but Snow stops him.

"Sit. Down." Peeta sinks down slowly.

Johanna looks back to him but her eyes can't stay locked with his. "I only kept one. To protect her."

"Present it."

She slides her chair back slowly, her eyes on the armed attendants. She slips her fingers in her right boot and pulls out a very small hatchet, roughly the size of a hammer. She stays crouched as she delivers it into Snow's hands.

"Beautiful." He admires the handle. I can see it's carved with a delicate design. It appears to be leaves, but I can't see from where I sit. He slips off the leather blade cover and the edge gleams in the light. He chuckles slightly. "And very sharp."

With sudden force he slams the hatch down on a teacup. I gasp as the cup falls neatly in two pieces.

"Made to cut bone?" He smiles at her.

"In animals. My uncle is butcher," she whispers. She lowers herself carefully into to seat.

"A formidable weapon," he murmurs, admiring it again. "Alas, I cannot allow you to be so armed in such close proximity to myself. Or my son." He holds the hatchet over his shoulder. An attendant darts forward and takes it from him. She disappears out the door with it. "It will be kept for you with the weapons stores until your assignment here is completed."

Johanna nods.

"And seeing as how despite any rules I make my son chooses to break them, I suppose I have no choice but to allow you use of your bow. Under supervision."

"Thank you," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Under my personal supervision," he smiles without warmth. "I'd love to see your skills again. Whenever you wish to shoot, please send an attendant for me."

I stare at him. He's rarely home. And he's very busy. He might as well have said I could use it once a decade.

"Well then," he breathes. "Let's eat!"

* * *

><p>"I'm always doing this," Peeta says, rubbing his face with his hands. "I have this idea I think is the best thing ever and the next thing you know I've completely ruined everything."<p>

"It's not so bad," I say, eyeing Johanna as she gives me a look.

"Yes," smiles Portia. "It's not like you ran away with a hovercraft and kidnapped your assistant."

He looks at her over his fingertips. She laughs quietly. "Oh Peeta. You do have a good heart, but you need to listen to your intuition at some point. You can't have thought arming her was a good idea. Not after-" she stops herself and looks up at me. "You know your father's rules."

He looks at her miserably.

I stand from my chair and move to him. I brush his legs off the footrest for his chair and sit down. I take his hand. "It really is the most beautiful gift I've ever received. I love it."

He smiles as he looks at our hands intertwined. "Thank you for saying so."

"Gross," Johanna scoffs as she tosses back her brandy and sets the glass down on the tray by the door. "And your room is even more ridiculous than hers."

"This isn't his room, it's the drawing room. Or one of them," Portia says.

"Oh for the love of-"

"Where is your room?" I ask him. "Is it near mine?"

"I don't know where your room is, actually," he smiles. "I'm not to be tempted to…visit you."

"And you can't know where his is," Portia jumps in, glaring at Peeta. "You'll see it when you're engaged."

"Not so long now," Peeta smiles. My stomach flip-flops.

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight. You guys have never been alone together?" Johanna raises her eyebrows as we wander the hedge maze. We lost the guards about fifteen minutes ago and I can hear them calling for us. We ignore them.<p>

"Just once," I say. "In District Twelve. Kind of how this whole thing got started. An engineer found a video of us kissing goodbye on the security cam."

"That was it?"

"What?" I ask her.

"Kissing. That was it?"

"Yeah," I say, trying to figure out what she means.

"So you guys have never…"

"No!"

She whistles through her front teeth. "Well that's going to be a fun wedding night," she laughs.

"What?" I demand.

"You're going to marry someone you've never been alone with. Forget not sleeping with him yet, have you ever had an honest conversation with him?"

"I don't want to talk about this," I say, turning left.

"No, let's go right," she says.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

I shrug and follow her.

"Do you think there are cameras in here?" she asks.

"No," I tell her. "Peeta says the automatic sprinklers shorted out the cameras in the greenhouse and gardens, they didn't get them fixed. The factory-"

"Caught fire?"

I frown. "Yeah," I answer slowly.

"Hunh. Well isn't that a coincidence."

I watch her.

"If you could leave now, would you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"If you didn't have to marry him. If he offered to send you home. Would you go?"

I stumble and stop for a moment. I hear the guards calling and I keep moving.

"I couldn't."

"But if you could-"

"I wouldn't."

"But-"

I yank her elbow and pull her in close to whisper in her ear. "Snow knows where my family lives. He knows where my best friend works. If I leave they're all dead." I relax my grip and speak louder. "So no. I wouldn't leave." I turn to the right down a long corridor of greenery. "Besides," I mutter, "he already offered to send me home. When I first got here."

She says nothing for a long while. We wander the maze, listening the breeze rustle the leaves and letting the autumn sunshine warm us through our jackets.

"He's not much like Snow, is it?" she remarks finally.

"I think he takes after Amaranth."

"Our Lady of Patience, Virtue and Beauty," she recites the title we were taught to call her in school. She kicks a stone along the path. "Bet she never got a choice."

"I doubt it," I say again.

"Not like yours is really a choice, but…"

"But still."

"Not a bad guy."

"No."  
>"Almost don't want to see him-" She stops suddenly.<p>

"See him what?" I ask. Her look is a mixture of fear and anxiety.

"So unhappy here."

She's holding something back but we've reached the exit of the maze and there are two irritated Peacekeepers waiting for us.

"That was easy!" she laughs at them. "Maybe you should build something a little harder for Victors like us."

She marches past them towards the greenhouse. "C'mon, Everdeen. Show me this greenhouse."

I catch up with her and we walk quickly to the greenhouse. The Peacekeepers struggle to keep up with us as in their heavy uniforms and weapons.

"I wonder what they'll call you."

"Hunh?"

"When you're married. What your title will be."

"Well, I'm not going to be First Lady until Peeta's in charge."

"Of course," she purses her lips in thought. "But they'd call you _some_thing."

"Lady Katniss?" I wrinkle my nose. "That sounds terrible."

"It does," she laughs. "How about our Lady of Indiscretion?"

I double over laughing. The Peacekeepers at the greenhouse door are watching us as though we are escaped mental patients.

"Please excuse us," Johanna laughs. "Our Lady of Awkward Dinner Conversation wants to show me the plants."

I wipe my eyes laughing. "Stop it, Johanna." I nod at the guards. "I have clearance for the gardens and conservatory."

The guards exchange a glance before stepping inside and letting us inside. I'm still giggling as we stumble through the door. Johanna stops short and covers her nose. "Ugh is that…"

"The roses."

We stand in the rows of roses. They stretch on and on. I look at her gagging.

"Let me show you something."

I lead her back to the platform. I wave at Pollux, who smiles and waves back. He nods at Johanna with a smile.

"You've met Pollux?"

"Briefly," she dismisses. "What are you showing me?"

"These," I announce.

But the bed is destroyed.

Shredded spiked leaves and tiny yellow teardrops are scattered in the upturned dirt. "Pollux!" I cry out, my eyes starting to burn in horror. "What happened?" I run to meet him as he walks over to the bed.

His eyes are sad. He shakes his head and holds up a single rose.

I take it from him. "Snow destroyed it?"

He nods.

"Why?"

He doesn't have to answer. "The bow," I whisper.

He destroyed it because of me. Because his son is disobeying him because of me. Because he has to punish Peeta for loving me. To keep him – us – under control.

I crush the rose in my hand and let the petals fall to the floor.

"What was it?" Johanna asks.

"A bed of dandelions."

"The weed?"

"Yeah."

"Does Peeta know?" Pollux nods his head. He makes a gesture that I can't quite follow. "Today? This morning?" He nods again. He bows another apology and then shuffles away, shaking his head.

"Still want to stay?"

I stare at the torn bed. "I couldn't leave him here. Not alone."

"Katniss." I look up at her. "Do you love him?"

I take long time to answer. "I will." She looks at me hard. "I don't have many other options, Johanna," I whisper.

"And if you did?"

"But…but there is no if…why do you….what is with the ifs?"

She searches my face, turns and walks away from me. She finds the purple and black leaves that hum and plays with the curling leaves. She smiles as they curl around her fingers.

"We had these in my Games," she tells me. "Stronger, though. Not so gentle. Guess these were an early breed." She pulls her hand back and the leaves release her and hum. "I used them to trap a kid from Two. He followed me up a tree by a river bank. They were below and in the water. I pushed him out of the tree and they pulled him under the water for me."

I shudder.

"Don't change the subject. What do you mean by-"

"Do you want to train the next kid to die in the Arena?"

"No," I sputter. "Of course not. I'll train them to win."

"To kill other kids?" I don't answer. "So if you had other options…?"

"There's no point in-"

"If you had another option."

I glare at her. "I'd take it." She smiles with a smug triumph. "Why?"

"Because I'm working on an option."


	6. Chapter 6

"Haymitch!" I cry out as I step on the train.

"Hey Sweetheart." He holds out his arms as I run over to him.

"I never thought I'd be this glad to see you," I laugh.

"Me too," he smiles. He looks over my shoulder at Johanna as he steps through the door.

"She's okay," I whisper.

He nods. "Is he coming?" he whispers.

"Yeah," I whisper. "He was talking to the supply train manager outside, but he'll be right in." I quickly check over my shoulder and turn back. "My family?"

"They're okay," he says.

"And-"

"Gale too."

I let my eyes close with relief for moment.

"Mr. Abernathy!"

"Mr. Snow."

"Call me Peeta," he says as he steps into the car with Portia. "It's so good to see you again."

"Mr. Sn-Peeta!" Effie appears behind him.

"Trinket?"

"Miss Mason. How…lovely…to see you again," Effie sniffs. "Has it been six months already? My, the time flies."

Johanna eyes Effie's lime green satin skirt suit and matching hat. The feathers stuck in the bonnet bob as she walks. "It does. Doesn't it?" She turns to Portia. "So what's our first stop?"

"Eleven," she says, checking her tablet.

"How long a ride is it?" I ask.

"Twelve hours, "she tells us. "It'll be an overnight trip. Peeta, you should check your cars."

"Okay," he answers. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he tells me. He and Portia disappear through a door that leads to the three cars specially outfitted for the trip. I made the mistake of boarding the train through the last of the three cars and was met with five fully outfitted Peacekeepers. They escorted me out of his quarters without comment. I wonder if it's just the five extra guards for him or if there are more in the other cars.

Effie squeals as he goes. "This is a dream come true," she sighs. "We're going to be accompanied by the President's son. This is going to be the most famous Tour the Hunger Games has ever known."

Johanna leans in to whisper to me. "It's definitely going to feel like the longest."

Haymitch laughs as he overhears. "Mason, you're all right."

We all stumble back and forth as the train starts up. I fall onto a sofa by Haymitch. Effie and Johanna find seats across from us. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask. "And it begins." He takes a long swig and we watch the boarding platform disappear as we enter the tunnel out of the mountains.

Two Capital servants burst through the doors followed by the second conductor. Johanna and Haymitch jump to their feet, but they run past us to the car Peeta and Portia walked into. They throw open the doors and dart inside. I stand up. "What's going on?"

Peeta is laughing to himself as he strolls out of the car. Portia's face is red, but she's smiling too. "That is not going to go over well, Peeta," she warns.

"What did you do?" I ask.

"Nothing," he smiles, strolling over to an overstuffed chair and settling down.

"Peeta-"

"How could I possibly have known the pins to those last two cars were loose before we started? Was I supposed to check on them? I mean, it's a shame I won't have a useless library and recreation center that I didn't need in the first place and didn't want, but I think we'll get along just fine."

The engineer and attendants return. "Sir, I apologize, we'll stop the train immediately."

"No!"

"But sir!"

"We'll be behind schedule. That would be far worse," Peeta insists. "We must keep going. You better go make sure the conductor knows to keep up our speed."

The man does as Peeta says with trepidation. The attendants stand around awkwardly. "Is there anything we can bring you?"

"I'll take a brandy," Johanna says immediately.

"Two," says Portia.

"Shiraz?" begs Effie.

"White liquor. Whatever you call it here. Gin?"

Peeta and I refuse.

The attendants gratefully take the excuse to hurry to get drinks.

"You really shouldn't have done that. Your father's going to be furious," I tell Peeta.

"He destroyed my dandelions," he mutters.

"Can you give us a minute?" I look up at Portia. She smiles and nearly laughs. She looks over to Johanna.

"Follow me," she nods to the furthest window. Haymitch and Effie exchange an awkward glance and leave the car.

I pull a chair closer to Peeta. "You've got to stop fighting your dad on these things."

He furrows his brow. "What?"

"The hovercraft, the bow…He's still angry you're with a Tribute-"

"A Victor."

"A girl from the Districts. He's going to keep…disciplining you."

"I don't care what he does to me."

"I care, Peeta."

He sighs. "I just…I don't want you to live in a cage too." He sits back in the chair. "You remember that night in the meadow? When you said no?"

"Of course."

"I knew what you were afraid of. Rules for everything. A life under a microscope. And now that you're here with me I want to make this life better. For you."

"I appreciate that. I do. But it's not worth angering your father."

"It doesn't have to be this way. I want to stand up to him."

"And you will. When you rule Panem. But for now – please – take it easy."

Peeta sighs. "Ok. After the Tour, I'll…I'll behave."

* * *

><p>I shift nervously in my seat. The dress is beautiful; the shoes would make the generals' daughter green with envy. My hair and makeup is perfect. But I can't get comfortable.<p>

"And now I give you our 74th Annual Hunger Games Victor. Katniss Everdeen!" The mayor of District Eleven attempts to encourage his constituents into applause by clapping politely. The smattering of lackluster applause does not steel my nerves.

Peeta takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. Effie grins excitedly and winks at me as we stand. Haymitch scowls. He holds my hand and walks me to the podium. He kisses my fingers and releases me to stand a few steps behind me. Seven Peacekeepers swarm to flank him. I see a rumble of anger move through the crowd.

"It is an honor to stand here before you," I read off the index card shaking in my hand. "Your tributes fought bravely and…and…" I swallow. I look up from the card. "And…" I look at the family in front I know to be Rue's. "And…" I look at the card. I let it go.

I can't remember anything Enobaria taught me about presentation. I can't think. I can't speak.

I feel him next to me before he speaks.

"I owe you – all of you - a debt of gratitude. Without Rue and Thresh, Katniss would not be here. Thresh was smart. And strong. And knew integrity. Rue was brave. And fearless. And kind." I hear the murmur. That he even knew their names is monumental for these people in this poor District.

"I cannot express my thanks to you in words. I hope you can accept a small token of payment for my enormous debt." I try not to jerk my neck too hard when I swing my head to look at him in surprise. "Tonight each family here in Eleven will receive an extra ration of tessurae."

The murmurs break out immediately. Even the Eleven Peacekeepers look surprised.

"I know I can never replace your loss, but I hope this gift will let you know they are not forgotten."

I find my voice. "I am honored to have called your sister a friend. I couldn't have survived without them. Thank you for your children. Thank you for the bread."

The crowd is now dangerously silent. I wonder if I should not be standing next to Peeta. Standing with him on this stage. Then Rue's grandmother stands. Her face is kind. I watch her with fear. Her eyes are on Peeta.

She presses three fingers to her lips. She holds them up to us. The crowd follows.

"You said you would behave!" I'm not even waiting until we are in a quiet corner to start yelling at him.

"I said I would after the Tour," he hedges.

"What's going on?" Johanna asks.

"Peeta's little…stunts…don't go over well with his father," Portia murmurs.

"It was a gesture for their kids saving your life, Katniss," Peeta argues.

"A gesture that could make them suffer!"

"What are you talking about?"

I exhale noisily and slowly. "Can we have a moment?"

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "This is going to get old fast," he says, ushering Effie out of the car. Portia and Johanna mutter as they move to the farthest corner of the car and pull out a deck of cards.

"Do you really think your dad is going to let them get extra tessura?" I hiss.

"I already had it delivered," he bites back. "We brought it with us on the train. That's why the engineer didn't realize the cars were missing for a few minutes; the extra weight of the grain."

I shake my head. "Peeta, they're going to suffer for your actions."

"Why? It's my fault, I'll get punished."

"You just don't…understand. What it's like. Out there."

"I would if you'd tell me. But you won't. You think I'm too sheltered? Too naïve to do any good?"

"You are sheltered!" Portia glances up at my outburst. I drop my voice back down. "Look, you will make a world of difference in a few short years. In the meantime, stop meddling with things you don't understand."

"I did it for you!" he yells in my face.

I've never seen him so angry. I've never felt so angry myself. He stomps out of the room to his quarters, slamming the door as hard as he can. Portia runs after him quickly, spilling her cards over the floor as she goes.

"Well that went well," Johanna says, sitting back in her chair as Effie hurries back in with a concerned look on her face. "And to think, only ten more stops to go."

* * *

><p>Peeta is not as involved in the following Districts. In Eight, they don't even let him walk me to the podium. I assume word was sent back to his father and he's not allowed to speak anymore. The crowd stirs restlessly and my time is cut short without warning. I recall there were several factories destroyed here recently by fire. I wonder if it was on purpose when I see these angry faces in the crowd.<p>

In Seven Johanna receives a great deal of applause when she's invited to introduce me. We stay a few extra minutes so she can sign autographs and speak with her family. I remember when she was selected as my guardian she was given five minutes to pack before she was snatched away too. Her family's faces are set with hate when the armed Peacekeepers surround her and tell her it is time to leave.

In Four, Peeta finally starts talking to me again. He apologizes, although half-heartedly, and asks for my forgiveness. I agree and admit I shouldn't have yelled at him for doing something so incredibly kind. We reach an uneasy agreement. I'm relieved we finally had a real conversation before our engagement in a matter of days, even if it was an argument. Johanna hasn't said another word my "options" and I worry we're running out of time.

"Have you ever met Finnick Odair?" he asks me as we step off the stage at their Justice Building. The crowd here was less tense, but I still felt uncomfortable.

"No," I tell him. "I've seen lots of pictures of him, though."

Peeta laughs. "I think he's probably our most photographed citizen. After my dad, anyway. Would you like to meet him?"

The Peacekeepers are not pleased they have to accompany us across a District to the Victor's Village on the shoreline. Neither is Haymitch, who is hungover and detests the "insufferably cheerful sunshine" of this place. Nonetheless, we do as Peeta wishes and reach a dazzling house of white stone.

"It's beautiful," I breathe.

"Wait until you see the inside," Peeta smiles.

Finnick throws open the door and yanks Peeta into a hug before I can knock. "Peet! You ol' dog, I thought I'd see you soon enough," Finnick is laughing. "And JoJo, it's been a few months, hasn't it?"

"I hate that nickname," Johanna sneers.

"I know; that's why I use it. Ms. Trinket, isn't it?"

Effie is beside herself in the face of Finnick's beauty. "It must be," she breathes, shaking his hand for a little too long. He eyes her deathgrip on his hand and she lets go with a nervous giggle.

"Haymitch Abernathy. Is that you out in the daylight? It doesn't suit you." Haymitch grumbles as I laugh out loud. I think I may like Finnick after all.

"And this beauty," Finnick purrs, "must be your intended. Katniss Everdeen," he bows and takes my hand. He presses a kiss to my knuckles and I flush with embarrassment. "He said you were lovely, but words don't do you justice."

I steal a glance over at Peeta, who is beaming with pride. "Lovely?" I try not to snort. "He gives me far too much credit."

"I will be the judge of that," Finnick laughs. "Come on inside."

I see him eye the Peacekeepers as he stands aside to let us in. Johanna nods at him. I wonder if they are close friends from mentoring for a few years together; if he and I will be friends when I mentor in six months. It seems odd that after all the training I had to go through to be a lady, I'll still have to train children to fight to the death. I have to guess that Snow doesn't want me to forget I'm under his rule no matter what privileges he lets me enjoy.

"Please have a seat," Finnick offers to our band.

"We can't stay long," Effie warns. "We are on a tight schedule, of course."

"Of course," he smiles. "How is your Tour coming, my Lady?"

It takes me a moment to realize he's speaking to me. "She's not quite a lady yet," Portia reminds him.

"Please call me Katniss," I say. I can see why Peeta hates being call Sir or Master. It sets you apart; isolates you from those around you.

"All right. How is your Tour, Katniss?"

"It's…unexpected," I tell him, hedging my words. The Peacekeepers are standing around, bored, and Peeta and Portia are sitting near me. But I can't believe they haven't noticed the unrest. "Things seem rather…tense."

"It's probably all those fires and accidents," Johanna says dryly. "Puts people on edge."

"Yes, it is tragic, isn't it?" Effie agrees. "So many. I hear there was even an accident on an oil rig here. Is that right, Mr. Odair?"

Finnick is looking at Haymitch when he answers. "Yes," he says slowly. "Terrible thing. The whole thing went up in flames. I heard that most of the workers were evacuated in time, but it lost over two thousand barrels of fuel bound for the capital. Enough fuel for twenty Capital hovercrafts."

Effie tsk-tsks. My eyes lock on Finnick. I'm getting the same uneasy feeling Johanna gives me when she talks of options and changes.

Peeta smiles at my frown. "It's not so bad. There are plenty of supply trains to the Districts and back. And it's more important that the workers got away in time."

"That's our Peeta," Finnick smiles. "He's got a good sense of priority."

"Here, here," says Portia with a smile and making Peeta blush.

I put my hand over his and give his fingers a squeeze. I see Haymitch narrow his eyes on us. I stare him down.

It isn't long at all before Effie hurries us out the door to visit Three. Our trip there will not be at their Justice Building, as part of it collapsed in a terrible windstorm last week. We have to arrive early so the Peacekeepers can inspect the new setting and determine if it's safe for Peeta and I.

Effie toddles of the bed nearly as soon as we get on the train, and Johanna laughs that she probably needs to wash her wig birds. Peeta yawns and Portia drags him off to his quarters. When they're gone, Johanna stands.

"Do I have to go to bed too?" I whine.

"No," she says, catching me off guard. "I think your Mentor can keep an eye on you."

"But he's a man. I'm not supposed to be alone with men," I hear myself blurting out.

Johanna gags. "I think I can trust you not to put the moves on Abernathy." She turns and walks out the door as Haymitch scowls at her.

I turn to him. He pulls a flask from his jacket pocket and takes a swig. "The first time I'm alone with a man in nearly four months and it's you."

"Consider yourself lucky. If it were Gale, he'd be dead already."

I blanch. "Are they really all right?"

"They're under pretty obvious supervision. Being followed and that stuff. Haven't heard bugs on the phone or anything, but they don't call anyone anyway. Your mother and Prim are taking it better than Gale, he's pretty pissed."

"I can imagine," I scowl. "He never was one for keeping his mouth shut."

"Last I ran into him, said he was trying to figure out how to get you out of here."

I raise my eyes in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I told him he should give up."

My heart sinks. "Why?"

"Because getting you away from Snow's son is going would mean taking down the government itself. That place is more heavily fortified than the Arena."

I sigh. "You're right. He'd only get hurt. Or killed."

"That's what I said. One man alone? It's preposterous. It would take an entire country. Coordinated outages, attacks, accidents, disruptions. That sort of cooperation would be the only thing to take down Snow."

His words are like a fire beginning. A small, flickering light that grows to brighten a dark room. I speak very slowly and carefully.

"Outages that cause interruptions to fuel. And industrial manufacturing."

"Exactly," he says with the hint of a smile.

"Haymitch-"

"Well, it's getting late. I better be off," he says suddenly, standing and turning to the door faster than I thought a drunk could move. "Your guard is going to be worried about you anyway."

"Haymitch!" He turns and watches me with a stern look. I know I'm not to ask anything about what he knows.

"If that sort of thing…could ever happen…which it can't, of course…" he nods. "Do you think they…whoever they is…would spare…" I don't have to say his name. Haymitch knows what I mean.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

And then he's gone.

* * *

><p>I can barely pay attention in Three, Two and One. My mind is racing. There is a plan. Not just to free me but to free Panem. I have no idea what the details are, but it must be soon. The outages are more frequent and violent in their destruction. But my engagement is in one week. And my wedding is only two weeks away now.<p>

"How long until we get to Twelve?" I ask Effie on the train. I'm nearly brimming with excitement of news. I wonder if Gale will tell me anything more than Haymitch.

"Oh, were you not told?"

Haymitch looks up sharply with me. "Told what?"

"We're going to skip Twelve this year."

I stare at her. "But my family-my home…"

Peeta is at a loss for words. I don't think he was told either. "But the Tour always ends at the Victor's home."

Effie shrugs. "Not this year. President Snow said that as your family will be attending your engagement party and wedding, we should skip Twelve to give you more time to prepare for your nuptials."

I sit back in my chair, stunned. Snow is keeping me from my family on purpose. But why? Because of Gale? Does he know his promise to me?

"I'm sorry, Katniss. If I'd have known," Peeta begins.

"It's okay," I say, forcing a smile. "She's right. My family will be at the Capital in just a week."

"I know, but," he sulks, "I wanted to see the meadow again."

I smile.

When we get back to the Capital, the tone has changed entirely.

"Welcome back, Master Snow. Miss Everdeen. You are to join President Snow in his office immediately. Ms. Trinket, Ms. Mason, Mr. Abernathy are to report to the Chief Justice office. Now."

I look over my shoulder as Effie, Johanna and Haymitch are flanked by our train guards. They are marched away swiftly. Portia follows us to the hallway that houses Snow's office.

"What's going on?" I whisper.

"I don't know," Peeta frowns. "What's this all about, Stefan?"

"Your father had some concerns over the security details in the Districts. I understand there were…disruptions while you were out in the field."

I meet Portia's eyes and she glances away.

The door we are led to is inconspicuous. If looking for it, no one would be able to tell that this is the working office of the president. Probably on purpose, I realize. I take note of the door handle. The emblem of Panem is inscribed on it. I have to smile in disgust. He had to set himself above in some small way after all.

"Peeta." Snow stands and moves over to Peeta quickly, his chair rolling out from behind him and smacking the credenza behind him. "I'm surprised to see you so unmolested after the news of what's been going on out there."

"The accidents? It wasn't really anything. Nothing even happened while we were there-"

"Portia," Snow barks and she jumps. "Go outside." She nearly runs and closes the door too hard behind her.

"Savages," Snow spits. Turning away, his eyes flash on me. "Savage behavior, the destruction out there. Don't you agree, Miss Everdeen?" He tests me angrily.

"I-I-don't understand, sir," I sputter.

"There are rumors," he seethes, "that these so-called accidents are in fact, acts of sabotage."

I gasp, perhaps too loudly to be convincing. "Why would anyone do such a thing?"

Peeta nods. "Yeah, Dad. Why? It's not for their own benefit."

"Why indeed?" Snow murmurs. I don't like the way he looks at me and Peeta. He paces the floor around his desk. "Needless to say, security will be tightened for your wedding."

"We're swarmed now," Peeta protests. "We've barely had any time together with all the people following us-"

"I will not have my decisions questioned!" Snow screams.

I try not to shake where I stand. Even Peeta is surprised by the outburst.

"It's for your own protection," Snow says quietly. I don't believe him. It's for his own display. To show his might on a mandated viewing program to all of Panem. To prove we can't defy him. He turns to me. "Your family, of course," I catch my breath, "will be afforded the same protection."

I am shaking now. His threat is lost on Peeta, but I understand him fully. If I interfere, my mother, sister and best friend will be dead in front of my eyes.

"How kind of you," I whisper.

"It's the least I can do."

As I stumble back to my room with a visibly shaken Johanna, I take comfort that at least the sabotage across Panem distracted Snow from the extra rations Eleven received two weeks ago.


	7. Chapter 7

Cinna pins the waist line one more time. "Okay. Open your eyes."

I do. He's beaming on me. "Now turn. And look."

I slowly turn to the mirror, eyes on the floor. I want to take in his work all at once. I look up.

"Cinna," I breathe.

"Do you like it?"

"I can't…I. Oh, Cinna."

The dress runs like a waterfall over me, smooth and elegant, powerful in its beauty.

"You like it." He smiles.

"Are those?" I step closer to the mirror. I examine the lace.

"Dandelions," he answers closely. He coughs nervously. "Peeta asked me…to use a piece of his mother's gown."

I nod, but I can't stop the tears now. I'm going to marry him in nine days.

"Shh," Cinna says as he gathers me in his arms. "You'll be all right."

Johanna stirs in the chair in the corner, where she was watching us quietly. "Yeah, Kat. Aren't all brides nervous, after all?"

I laugh through my tears. "Not like me," I say, muffled in Cinna's shoulder.

He pulls me back to cradle my face in his hands. "You've got to have faith, Katniss. The whole country is behind you."

It's the smallest gesture. A hint of movement that I recognize. He winked so quickly I would have missed it. I look over at Johanna. She locks eyes with me before pretending she heard nothing.

I feel some of the weight on my chest lift.

"Now, Johanna. Let's get you fitted for your bridesmaid dress."

"What?" she sits up and nearly falls off the chair. "I'm not in the bridal party!"

"You are now," Cinna shakes his head, unzipping a second garment bag he'd hung on the mirror. "Snow's orders. Now put this on and stop pouting."

* * *

><p>I'm used to the flashbulbs by now, so when they announce my entrance at the final Tour reception, I move deftly through the crowd to look for them. I hear her voice. It's like the train platform all over again. But now she's dressed in something made for her by Cinna, the most beautiful thing she's ever owned. She glows like a firefly. I run to her surely making Enobaria cringe as she watches on television from her next assignment.<p>

"Prim!" I cry out, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing as hard as I can. I can feel her sobbing into my hair. I'm sure Venia is worried about the curls coming loose, but I could not care less.

I finally let her go and the cameras are snapping millions of photos of our happily tear-streaked faces. "Mom," I gasp as I stand up and she falls into my arms. Prim clings to my skirt between us as we take our turn crying into one another.

I pull back to look at her face and I see him over her shoulder. "Gale?"

He smiles. "Hey Catnip."

I'm acutely aware of the cameras. I know Snow must be watching. And Peeta. Gale does too. He smiles sideways a little at me. "Think you can give your cousin a hug?"

I laugh and throw my arms around him. "Of course." The flashbulbs pop.

"I'm here, Katniss. I'll fix this,'" he whispers into my curls.

I pull away before I want to and take a step back. I smile and shake my head. I can't talk to him here. I wave to the photographers and reach for Prim's hand. "Smile," I tell her. She does so bravely.

"Miss Everdeen! Miss Everdeen!" A nearby cameraman calls for my attention. "It's unusual to have the family of the Victor at the final reception. Why do you think they were called here? Is there something special planned?"

I smile as wide as I can. "I have no idea! You know Peeta, he's full of surprises," I laugh hollowly. The photographers laugh along with me, although genuinely. They can't wait for whatever is about to happen. I feel a tug at my elbow and Peeta's arm encircles my waist.

"Let her enjoy the party, guys!" he calls out and grins for the pose. He turns back to my mother. "It's so good to see you again, Mrs. Everdeen. Gale," he nods. "And Prim! Have you gotten taller?"

She smiles meekly. "A little, I guess."

"You shouldn't look so pretty, you're going to upstage your sister!" She blushes.

He looks back at my mother. "I'm really glad you were able to be here. It's going to be a big night." She nods. I wish she'd try smiling harder. I don't want the cameras to catch the disappointment in her eyes.

"Gale, how's the work in the mines?" Peeta attempts conversation.

"Dark," Gale says, barely containing his sarcasm.

I again cover his bitterness with laughter. "Oh Gale, you're no good at conversation. Here, dance with your cousin!" I pull him away from the group and over to the dance floor.

He begins to put his hands on my waist but I catch him and show him proper form. "We're related," I hiss. "Act like a brother." He stiffly holds my hand and his other rests on my shoulder blade.

"I don't even dance like this with Posy," he growls.

"Gale, watch your facial expressions," I say lightly, smiling as though he's said something funny. "There are cameras everywhere in this room. One wrong photo and Snow will put you in jail."

He sighs. "Okay," he says, forcing an unnatural smile. "You really do look amazing tonight."

"Thanks. I'm kind of nervous. I guess all I have to do is say yes when the time comes, right?"

His eyes cloud. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Gale, stop it," I mutter through clenched teeth. "You'd be putting your life and your family's at risk."

"There's a rebellion, Kat," he whispers, pushing his forehead closer to mine to muffle our words from other dancers. "The other districts, the accidents. They skipped Twelve because the Hob was set on fire."

"What? Was anyone inside?" I panic.

"Smile, princess, smile," he reminds me. I do so.

"Haymitch said something…but how? When?"

"Soon," Gale whispers, twirling me around. "It'll be soon. Be ready, okay?"

I nod, trying to keep my face from revealing the secrets just told me.

"I'm going back tonight, after the party, to Twelve to deliver some intel about this place."

"Please be careful," I grin with fear.

"I will," he smiles.

We spin quietly for a minute.

"Gale."

"Yeah."

"You've got to tell them," I look up at him seriously. "They can't hurt Peeta."

Gale flinches and I have to push him to get him dancing again. He starts to say something but stops.

"He's not his father, Gale," I attempt to explain. "He's a good man."

"Katniss, he stands counted with all this evil."

"He was born into the evil, that doesn't make him evil," I throw at him before recovering a delicate chuckle. "He wants more for this country than his father ever did. He'd be a good ruler."

"He's never going to rule Panem, Kat."

My eyes dart up to his. "What?"

"An interim government is going to take over after this one falls," he whispers. He's genuinely smiling. "I don't know the details, but they've been in touch with Haymitch. Snow's line will be over."

The songs ends and we stop to applaud the musicians. I look over at Gale sideways. "I'll protect him myself if I have to."

Gale turns to me, startled. "Katniss, don't put yourself betw-"

"Excuse me. I have to go get engaged."

I step around him with a jovial smile and sweep over to the stage where Peeta is speaking with President Snow. "Is this a good time?" I smile and bite my lip as he sees me approaching.

"I guess so," he laughs. He leans into my ear. "I'm kind of nervous."

"Don't be, I'm not," I lie.

Peeta sighs a little and touches my cheek. "I'm so lucky." He steps up onto the stage and calls for the crowd's attention. I stand next to his father, the muscles of my neck and jaw tensing with our nearness.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Everyone!" Peeta calls out for a moment before the conductor runs over and hands him a microphone. "Thank you," he says, clicking it on and his familiar voice fills the hall.

"Thank you all celebrating with us the Victory Tour of our 74th Hunger Games Victor, Katniss Everdeen. Thank you all of those watching at home for joining us in honoring her achievement and incredible spirit. And I want to personally thank her family for traveling all the way here from Twelve so you could be with us tonight. And now, if you all will indulge me for a moment…" He turns to me and gestures for me to join him on stage. I take a slow, deep breath and walk over to him.

"Katniss," he smiles nervously. "I cannot express how overwhelmed I am to stand here by your side. In all of Panem, I've never met anyone as openhearted, brave, kind and honorable as you. I know we haven't had much time together, but I know I want to spend each and every minute of the rest of my life loving you." He lowers himself to one knee and pulls out a small box from his coat pocket. I hear gasps and the thud of a wealthy heiress fainting to the floor in the back of the room. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

I realize I'm crying as I take his hand. _He loves me. I've never heard that before. He loves me. Not like a trophy. Like a partner. He loves me._ But what's worse is that he thinks what he's said is true. That I'm openhearted and honorable. But I'm lying to him. He thinks I'm happy. He thinks I'm in love, too. And he thinks we are safe; that no rebellion is coming to end his father's life. Or his own.

He's standing before me, crying a little too. His hands are shaking. I stare into his eyes. They're unlike any blue I've ever seen. "Yes." A smile and laughter escapes me involuntarily. The applause is deafening.

I hold out my left hand to him and he slides the ring onto my finger. I wasn't able to see it far away through my tears, but I look at it and try not to gawk. It makes Portia's diamond stud earrings look like the point of a pencil. It's cut in such a way that light seems to radiate from it rather than through it.

I look away from the ring. I don't feel like it matters anyway. I catch Peeta off guard as I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his lips passionately. His hands find my waist and the crowd cheers on.

For the rest of the night, even when we are only feet apart greeting guests and accepting congratulations, I catch him staring at me. His face is radiant with happiness. I can see the joy I saw in Amaranth's eyes in the portrait he painted of her. He is not his father, full of hate and fear. He is his mother, full of love and hope.

I know I have to keep my promise to Gale. I have to protect Peeta myself.

* * *

><p>"So this is your room," I say, tugging nervously on my sleeve.<p>

"Yep." He's still standing over by the door, even though I wandered in about fifteen feet to look around. I think Portia may still standing outside, now unsure of what to do now that we can be alone together.

"It's nice," I say. It's very similar to mine, but with richer and darker colors. Greys and navys mostly. The key panel by the door is similar to mine. I wonder if he's able to leave without permission. I wonder if I am. I don't know the code either way.

"Are we going to share this room or move to another room? After the wedding, I mean."

"You know, I don't know?" he laughs. "I guess another room. Portia tells me your clothes alone wouldn't fit in here."

I laugh. "Well, that's true." I take note that one thing from my closet is here. A silk nightgown hung by his closet door. I step over and let the soft fabric fall between my fingers. I think back to the night I met him. I'm nearly just as nervous. The pill Portia gave me in the lounge was bitter. She didn't offer me any numbing serum, but I don't think I'd want it now.

I look over at him. He swallows audibly. "Um…we don't have to…um"

I surprise him by laughing. "Nervous?"

He blushes and smiles. "Yes," he exhales.

"Me too," I smile. I surprise myself by moving over and sitting down on his bed. "I guess with all the Tour and planning…I kind of forgot we'd be able to…" I'm too embarrassed to finish that sentence.

"You know, we should wait," he says quickly. "It's only a week until we're married anyway."

"Less than that now, it's almost morning outside."

"Yeah."

"Yeah." I can't tell if I want to laugh or cry at this point. Am I disappointed or relieved?

"Um. I'm going to change. For bed."

"Oh. Okay. Do you want me…to go to my room?" I ask.

"No, no, you can stay here. If you want, of course. You don't have to."

"I can stay here. It's cold anyway. I'm used to sharing a bed with Prim in the winter," I admit.

"Okay," he says. He looks a little more nervous again. "Why don't you take the bathroom first? I'll change."

I nod and slip into his bathroom. It's more navy tiles with matching grey tiles, but it's warm. I wash my face with sweet smelling soap and clean my teeth with the toothbrush resting on a washcloth monogrammed KES. My new name has already been inscribed. Katniss Snow. An involuntary shudder runs down my back.

I shut off the water and look myself in the eye in the mirror. _Who is this girl in the evening gown? Who is this person who wears a dandelion brooch over her heart? Who is the man waiting for her outside that door? _

I open the door and Peeta jumps, buttoning the top button on his pajama shirt just a few feet away.

"Oh, sorry," I blush.

"No, it's fine. I'm…gonna…get ready." He disappears into the bathroom through the closet. I yank my dress off quickly. I hear a seam rip and mouth an apology to Cinna before pulling the nightgown over my head. It feels like warm cream on my skin. I fold my dress over twice and set it down on a wingback chair.

I start to wander the room waiting for Peeta to emerge.

His desk is stacked high with books. I scan titles like "The History of Panem", "Governing and Governors", and a very old book called "The Prince" by a strange name, Machiavelli. I've never seen anything so unusual so I pick up the book and flip through it. Notes in Peeta's careful handwriting line the borders. He seems to disagree with a number of sentences he's marked out in red.

I hear the toilet flush and I quickly set the book back down. I look back to the closet, but the water starts running in the sink and I continue my evaluation of his room. I meander over to the writing table in the corner. There's a framed photo of his mother on the hutch. I pick it up to admire her again.

"Thank you for your son," I whisper to her. "You'd be proud."

When I set the photo back down, I see the folded piece of paper tucked back between the hutch and the table. I pinch the corner and retrieve it. When I unfold it, I see myself.

I hear him behind me without turning around. "You didn't tell me you could draw," I whisper.

"I didn't think of it," he confesses. He comes to stand by me.

"You see me like this?" I ask him.

"Like what?"

"Beautiful."

The picture is exquisite. And detailed. But the girl beaming with her little sister in her arms is too radiant. Too happy. Too perfect.

"You are beautiful."

I look over my shoulder at him. He believes it.

I turn around and let our lips brush. I feel him smile against my mouth. I let the drawing flutter back to the desk.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm?" He kisses me again.

"Let's run away together."

He laughs a little. "Where would we go?" he smiles.

"Somewhere safe," I beg.

"You're safe here with me," he says, leaning in to kiss me again. "I'd never let anything happen to you."

I kiss him back desperately. "I won't ever let anything happen to you either." I wrap my arms around him and cling to him.

"Katniss? Are you okay?"

I pull back and look up in his eyes. I move my hands up to my shoulders and slide the straps of my nightdress off. It slips to the floor around my feet.

Peeta looks into my eyes for a moment before I see his eyes dart to my bare skin. His breath shudders as he takes me in.

I can only whisper. "Take me to bed, Peeta."

He obeys my command, lifting me up by my waist so I can wrap my legs around him while he carries me. He lies on top of me, letting his fingers drift down my sides, tickling my skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. He kisses my ear lobe, my neck, my chin, my collarbone. He stops after brushing his lips over my beating heart and looks up at me. I cup his cheek and give him a small nod.

He lowers his mouth to my breast and sighs with contentment. His breath is warm on my chest. A fire catches in my core and I feel a tightening as I anticipate what's coming. His tongue moves quickly to my other breast and his fingers come to tease the nipple left cold in the night air. I groan. My hips involuntarily push up off the bed, grinding against where he still hovers over me. I can feel his erection on my thigh. The fire burns hotter.

I sit up suddenly and push him off me. A startled cry escapes his lips as I yank open his pajama shirt. I hear a button ping off the lamp base. I pull him back down on top of me and push the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. His warm skin against mine is intoxicating. His chest is against mine and I can feel his heart beating as our mouths meet again.

His hips pull away from where he's rubbing against me and I feel his fingers searching between us. He touches me and I cry out into his mouth. He lifts up onto his free arm to see what he's doing. His hand moves in slow circles and he stares as he touches everything he wants. I'm writhing at his touch, wanting more. He pushes a finger inside me and his eyes go glassy with the sensation. I bite my lip at the slight sting. He slides back and thrusts it in again. The change from pain to pleasure is overwhelming and I'm embarrassed at the noises I can't seem to stop making.

"Peeta. Please."

I sit up as best I can and fumble for his waistband and untie the drawstring. His pants fall and I stare at him with lust. I wrap my fist around him and feel the weight of him in my hand. I feel wild and drunk and burning hot. He groans at my touch. I lick the head where I see he's starting to leak from his desire. It's bitter and salty but the primal noise he makes is driving me wild. I wrap my lips around him and taste him.

He nearly immediately pushes me back onto the bed. "Too much," he gasps for air. "I can't wait any more." His palms slide beneath my knees and he opens my legs to receive him. He holds himself steady at my entrance and looks me in the eye as he starts to push in.

He waits until my yelp and grimace fades before pushing slowly forward. The sensation of being entirely filled with him rushes through me. When he withdraws I feel hollow and empty and wrap my arms around his back to keep him close. He complies.

I hold him as he moves inside me. The ache is subsiding but I can't stop my mind. _What am I doing?_

"I love you," he groans into my ear.

I close my eyes and he comes inside me.

* * *

><p>"You're still here!" I say with surprise as we enter the drawing room where I usually take breakfast.<p>

I'm keenly aware of the ache between my legs when I see Gale and my mother sitting at the table. Moreso when I see Snow joining us for the first time. Peeta looks surprised, but in a far more pleased way.

"Getting to know the in-laws?" he smiles at his father as the attendant pushes the chair in under him. I smile at Prim as she waves timidly from her seat by Snow. Their proximity is suffocating.

"One could say that," Snow smiles. "I just thought that with the wedding so close, why go home at all?" His eyes find me. "I wouldn't want any secrets of the plans slipping out."

It's as though he's speaking plainly into my ear. He knows Gale knows something. I can't even feign a smile as I absorb this information. My mother coughs.

"Your home is incredible, Mr. President. I can see how Katniss has fallen under its spell." I wonder if her words are a dig at me. I think she just may be frightened. I hope she doesn't believe I've been seduced by this life. I wonder if Gale told her I wouldn't let rebels kill Peeta.

"Oh, I still think there is some Tribute in there as well," Snow digs further. "Her…rebellious spirit is only encouraged by my son's restlessness, I fear."

Gale's face is pale as he watches the exchange between my mother and Snow. I worry he's about to say something he'll regret. Unfortunately, Prim interrupts with a far worse announcement.

"We're staying in your old room," Prim pipes up. "You have a lot of clothes."

I realize now that my mother knows I wasn't in my own bed last night. And now Gale knows too.

"Prim! How is Lady?" I burst out.

"Oh, eating everything! I think she'll be ready to mate soon."

I smile with relief. "Is the goat herder still living by the West mine entrance?"

"East," she corrects me. "And yes. He's offered a few years now, but I think now Lady is finally ready to be a mom."

"Really?" I smile at her professional diagnosis.

"And what about you?"

I am surprised by Gale's question. "What?"

He thrusts his chin at me and Peeta. "Planning to fill a nursery soon?" His eyes are dark.

My cheeks burn. "I think we should worry about the wedding first," I laugh nervously.

"Yeah," Peeta smiles, putting an arm around my shoulders. "We have plenty of time."

"Plenty," I mutter, my eyes on Gale's anger.

Peeta asks Prim about plant remedies and she chatters on while I gratefully let her keep up the conversation. I keep catching Snow's eye. I nod at him. I understand. I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

After breakfast is over, my family and Gale are shown back to their rooms. I can hear the click of the locks echoing down the hallway. They might as well be in prison here.

"My dear," Snow says to me. "Would you join me for a walk in the conservatory? The roses are blooming beautifully."

"Oh, I'll come along," Peeta says.

"No, no. This is just for me and my daughter-in-law," Snow smiles sweetly.

Peeta shrugs and smiles. "Okay then." He turns to me and plants a kiss on my cheek. "See you soon."

I watch him walk away, dreading his distance.

Snow leads me to the conservatory. His Peacekeeper guards are older than Peeta's and clearly have great skill in what they do. Their movements are so seamless I barely notice them unless their footstep echo falls out of sync with our own. We reach the gardens in silence. I say a silent prayer to Amaranth's portrait as we pass her through the doors.

"You've seen my roses, I'm sure."

"Yes, sir. They're lovely."

"Oh call me Dad." I cringe. "After all, we'll be family in a few short days."

"Family," I smile. "Yes."

"A close, close family. It's how I see my great country. I am first and foremost a father. Yes, to Peeta, but also to this nation. My citizens are my children. Children who need structure. Who needs discipline." I watch him, searching to discern his meaning. "Peeta has so many ideas, doesn't he? About freedom and _change_," he sneers at the word. "But I know, and I think so do you, that everyone must know their place in order for a nation as fragile as ours to exist."

I stare at him. "I don't understand, sir."

"Dad."

I swallow. "I don't understand…Dad."

"I think you understand more than you pretend to, my sweet child." He smiles. His teeth are pink. "When citizens don't know their place, disruptions occur. Accidents. Needless deaths." My blood freezes. He smiles at my fear. "Ahh, I see you understand."

"Now," he says, beginning to pace. "I don't imagine you have much to do with the disruptions themselves as I've had you kept here securely, but I do think the disruptions in coordination with your movements around the nation in the Tour mean something. You are some sort of signal to them. Some…symbol. And I think you know that."

I beg my face to remain blank.

He sighs. "I shouldn't have let Peeta take a bride from the Districts. I knew it would end badly. But he had his heart set on you. When I found out, oh how he begged for my forgiveness. For your safety. It was nearly charming. Nearly," he mutters. "It's really the only thing he's ever asked for, I suppose. And you do have a certain…strength about you. Something the dregs of this nation can relate to. Amaranth was so lovely, but she was not strong. Not at all. And when she died…well. She had many admirers. And so do you," he looks up at me. "Including your…cousin?"

I flinch. "Ah, yes," he smiles. "Your 'cousin'. Shall we keep pretending?"

"No," I whisper.

"Boyfriend? Lover?"

"No!" I burst out. "Only a friend. A lifelong friend."

"Good," Snow smiles. "But let's not pretend his interest in you is purely friendship."

"He knows I'm devoted to your son!" I cry out.

"I'm pleased to hear that. But that doesn't mean he's not devoted to freeing you." I am silenced. "I know he is up to something, he's far too impetuous and brash to mask his loyalty to you." I'm embarrassed the Snow has diagnosed him so well. "But…he is useful. Through you."

"Sir?"

"Dad," he corrects me. "If your…friends…think they're going to spirit you away, perhaps fake your death," he muses with mirth, "to get you away from here, they are incorrect."

"What?" I'm whispering.

"Oh now, my dear. You know."

"I don't…Dad."

"Can you imagine? How it would look if my only child's bride disappeared from under my nose?" He plucks a rosebud. "My allies would start to wonder. How could so strong a leader let her be kidnapped? Captured? Possibly even murdered?" He crushes the rosebud and lets the petals fall to the dirt. "No, no. That would not do. I have a duty to show that I know and control every inch of this land." He turns to look at me.

"Do you know how my dear wife died?"

I swallow hard. "Yes, Peeta told me she fell into the reflecting pool and drowned."

He scoffs. "She did. After she tried to run."

I stare at him. "What?"

"It was a brilliant plan. Free a small but deadly muttation from our laboratory. Leave bloodied and torn clothes in the hallway. Have a guard discover and kill the mutt the next morning, but it would be," he chucks and feigns sorrow, "too late to save our fair Lady."

He turns to look at me. "Can you imagine? She would abandon her duties, as First Lady. After fifteen years. As a wife. As a mother to an impressionable adolescent." He smiles as though remembering something happy. "She was discovered trying to escape through this conservatory."

"You drowned her?" I whisper.

"Citizens must be kept in line," Snow intones dryly. "She, and her friends assisting her, needed to know disobedience is unacceptable." He squares off with me. "You will marry my son. You will bear his children. You will remain by his side until the day you die. No matter how or when I choose that to occur. And until I am certain that you and your friends understand these terms, your family will not leave here."

With that, he turns and leaves the gardens.

A single Peacekeeper leads me back to the room I share with Peeta. When we see he's not there, the male guard excuses himself to collect Johanna from her quarters so I'm not alone. The door locks behind me and I realize I still don't know the code for the door.

I turn on the shower to its loudest setting, shed my morning clothes and climb inside to cry.

I should be grateful Snow doesn't realize the extent of the plans. That his arrogance is so great he can't imagine anyone would stand up against the government itself. They'd take his son's trophy but never his country. I should be glad he can't imagine the wave of destruction that's about to fall upon him. But I can't think of that. I can only think that he has my family. He has Gale. And when he does find out what is going on; he will make them suffer. If the underground attacks while they're trapped here, they'll be killed.

I've got to stop the rebellion.

* * *

><p>"Johanna, let's do the maze again," I say eagerly at afternoon tea with Peeta. "I think we can beat our time."<p>

She looks up with interest. "Sure."

"Great. We can have some girl talk about the wedding," I wink at her. "And your dress." She scowls. The lacy creation she is to wear is lovely, but she looks like she'd rather die than wear anything that frilly.

"Make sure you're back by six," Peeta tells me. "Finnick is coming in and I know he'll want to see you."

"Really? For the wedding?"

"Yeah, he's agreed to be my best man," he says.

"That's great," I say, locking eyes with Johanna. "Really great."

As anticipated, the Peacekeepers try harder not to lose us this time. We dart right and left but they keep catching up with us. I know they're following orders. I give up and try to figure out how speak code.

"I'm really glad my family is getting to stay this whole week. It's nice they'll get to see how secure my life is here. Nothing's going to get to me here, you know?"

Johanna eyes our followers. "Yeah. It'll put your mother's mind at ease. And your cousin. He's pretty protective of you."

"I know," I agree. "He worries too much, really. I worry he's going to start something he can't finish." She looks over at me. "In school," I lie, "he used to get into fights with older boys much stronger than him when he thought they were bothering me. He got beat up a lot." Johanna nods thoughtfully, her brow knitting together. "But here," I choke out the words, "Dad has me so well protected; I don't think anything could ever happen. I'll be glad when he sees that and doesn't get worked up over things anymore."

She looks disgusted when I call him Dad. "Sounds like he's a bit wild."

"Yeah. You'd tell him to settle down, right? If he was acting up at the wedding?" I nearly whisper that. I notice the guards straining to overhear. "I wouldn't want to spoil Prim's time."

"Of course," she nods. "I'll tell Finnick to keep an eye out too."

I sigh. "Thank you, Johanna."

She nods curtly. "It's going to be a big night," she says. "For all of us."

I wonder if that's a warning.

* * *

><p>Prim straightens her tiara in the mirror nervously. "Is that straight?"<p>

"You look like an angel," my mother tells her.

"You do, Prim," I smile. Her pale pink dress brushes the ground, simple and beautiful. Cinna sewed hundreds of pearls into the white waistband to match my dress, and teardrop pearls adorn the sleeves. "It's not fair for the maid of honor to look so good."

"Thank you," she blushes at her reflection. "But you know you look like a princess," she says to me over her shoulder.

Cinna's dress is heartbreakingly beautiful. It drapes from my right shoulder across a bodice inlaid with pearls and lace and attaches with the dandelion brooch at my left hip. The bodice ends in a diamond point under my bellybutton and a skirt of pure white satin is hidden under another layer of tiny, intricate lace. Diamonds dot the dandelion flowers in the lace. Venia's swept my hair up into a cascade of chocolate waves and dotted my hair with matching stones. Octavia made my skin shine and Flavius worked magic on my bitten nails. They look new and perfect. I sparkle as I move in the sunlight.

Cinna steps up behind me in the mirror. "She looks like a First Lady of Panem," he smiles. "Almost." He raises the diadem above my head and lowers it onto the crown of curls. "It was Amaranth's," he murmurs.

I force the smile. "Oh, Cinna. You've created a miracle."

He laughs. "Hardly. You were always ready for this." He meets my reflection's eye. "You were born to lead."

Cinna leaves to get a seat in their enormous Justice Hall; I was able to secure invitations for my prep team through Portia. I found out the guest list for my wedding contained only a half dozen people I actually knew. I wonder if Haymitch will show up. I suppose he can't really turn down an invitation signed with Snow's seal. I can bet he won't be sober.

My mother sits down next to me. I take her hand. She dabs at her eyes.

"He's a good man, Mom," I whisper. "He loves me."

She says nothing. Prim comes to me and wraps her arms around my waist. I look at our tableau in the mirror.

_Who is this woman in the white dress? Who will she become? _

A knock at the door startles us all. Portia sticks her head in the door. "Katniss? It's time."

My mother and Prim wipe their tears and hug me with all their might. "Go on," I smile at them. "I'll be right there." They follow Portia out the door. I nod to her. "One minute." She smiles and leaves me alone.

I search around my room for the canvas bag I hid away so many months ago. I find it shoved under the petticoats where I first had to hide it. I dig through it as quickly as I can, finding the boots I left so long ago. I kick off the delicate pearl-studded shoes that Cinna commissioned for me. I slide on my old hunting boots. Letting the skirts fall back down, I know who I am.

Portia knocks again and I open the door for her. "I'm ready."

The sight of Haymitch waiting outside is startling, but not as much as the realization he's sober. "What are you out here for?" I say.

"I'm supposed to give you away."

"What?"

"Yeah. Brides here get escorted by their fathers," he says. "Theirs are usually alive." He's right. To live long enough to see your children get married in the Districts is pretty rare. It stings nonetheless. "I guess they figured I was close enough for a stand-in," he snorts.

I take his arm. "You are, Haymitch. I'm glad you're here."

Attendants whip around us. Prim fidgets in front of us and Portia makes her go to the bathroom just in case. I can hear guests murmuring on the other side of the grand oak door.

"Nervous?" Haymitch asks.

I look at him. "No," I tell him honestly. "I know what I'm doing. And why I'm doing it." He holds my gaze. I drop my voice. "Some things are worth the risk. And some are not." He sees me watching Prim come back from the bathroom.

The doors open.

It's a strange sort of calm that blankets me when I reach him. I feel like this is what everything has led up to. From the minute Prim's name was drawn to this moment, standing here with him. His eyes are wet even though he's smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt. He's so nervous he drops my ring. The guests laugh appreciatively. When he puts the golden band with the seal of Panem engraved around it, I feel the transformation is complete. The girl from District Twelve has become the next heir of Panem.

The applause at our kiss is like a tidal wave.

I hug my mother as we descend the raised platform, nodding at the guard that was stationed next to her and Prim. Gale is flanked by two guards. I hug him too, but I can see he feels defeated. I smile and squeeze his hand. "Save me a dance," I whisper.

We are led to a private drawing room off the main hallway that our guests will follow to our reception. Cinna is waiting to pin up my dress so I can dance.

"I didn't fall!" I laugh as he sees me.

"You were perfect," he laughs. He turns to Peeta. "Both of you."

"I dropped the ring," Peeta blushes. "I was so nervous I'd forget what to say."

I smile and kiss him. "You were perfect."

He holds my hands and just stares at me, smiling, while Cinna circles the dress with deft skill and fashions the train up to a bustle. "What?"

"I just can't believe you're mine," Peeta sighs. "It feels like it was yesterday I saw you in your chariot in front of the house. And you're my wife." He nearly laughs he smiles so broadly. "It's like I'm still dreaming."

Cinna finishes his work and Peeta takes the opportunity to pull me in for an embrace. I close my eyes as Peeta whispers, "I love you."

"I love you too," I say, opening my eyes and finding Cinna eyeing me over Peeta's shoulder. He's wondering the same thing I am. Do I mean it?

"Can I take this thing off now?" Johanna pushes her way into the drawing room, her dress hiked up to her knees and balled into her fists.

Finnick follows her closely. "Please, Cinna. She's ruining how I look in comparison."

I can't help but laugh along with Peeta. "Johanna, if I can manage this after a life in pants and boots, you can handle a dress for one afternoon!"

"Oh, it's all right, it's all right," Cinna smiles good-naturedly as he steps over to Johanna. "I anticipated this." He kneels down and Johanna jumps as he reaches up under her full skirt. I hear a few snaps pop and the fabric below her knees comes free. I see a flash of silver from her thigh. Cinna has her step out of it and folds it neatly over his arm. "Frankly, I was afraid I was going to have to do that before the ceremony started."

Johanna thanks him with a rye smile and goes to admire her reflection in the mirror. As Finnick moves to embrace and congratulate Peeta, I slip over to Johanna at the mirror.

"How did you get it back? I saw it when you stepped out of your dress." I whisper. She looks at my reflection. She tugs on the skirt, trying to bring it a few inches lower on her legs to make sure the tiny ornate hatchet is still hidden in the thigh holster. "I can't see it now. Just be careful dancing."

She nods. "Pollux has keys to the armory closet." Her lips barely move as she murmurs her answer. "When you need your bow, he'll have it for you."

Finnick has come to take her arm to lead her into the reception. I let Peeta take my arm. We wait for our guards to take us to the ballroom. I look at him. He and I are now "we".

"You look worried," Peeta murmurs as we walk down the hall. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yes," I shake my head. "I was just trying to remember if I tied Prim's hair ribbon in a double knot. She pulls them out all the time."

"She's so sweet," he tells me. "I hope she has some time to meet with Pollux and see the gardens. I think she could teach him a few things about plants."

"Probably. She's smart as a whip." We start down the hallway.

"Do you think she'd want to study here?"

"Hunh?"

"To be a doctor? Do you think she'd want that? I can talk to my tutors."

I finally nearly fall over my own feet. My sister could be a doctor. "Yes!" I agree fanatically. "Oh, wait. I should ask her. I mean, she's got friends at home…" I wince at my words. How similar would her situation be to mine if she came here? Locked up? Or allowed to only see tutors and no one else?

I can see it crosses Peeta's mind. "Well maybe she could do phone classes. Or we could use the tablets, like Portia has. Video lessons. What are you looking at?"

"You," I tell him. "You're such a wonderful surprise."

He blushes. "I just want you and your family to be happy," he whispers as we reach the arched entrance. "It's all I ever wanted for you."

"It's all you've given me," I whisper back.

We are applauded again as we enter, but I can't help but wonder if the guests are getting tired of celebrating a District girl marrying into the wealthiest family in Panem. Most of them had hopes their daughter would be in my place. I remember wishing I could trade places with them. I can't say that's true anymore. They would not fight to save his life.

The music is perfect and the musicians wear wild suits that match the décor in the room. Effie cries so hard her false eyelashes come loose. Johanna steals them and sticks them on Prim's water glass and Prim laughs until she hiccups. The congratulations and champagne flows.

I'm exhausted and collapsed gracelessly into a chair while I watch Peeta tell a group of diplomatic peers a story about Finnick teaching him to use a trident that resulted in a harpooned hovercraft when I notice Haymitch asks my mother to dance. I smile at her dancing; I haven't seen that since my father died. Her face has her wistful smile plastered on it; she masks her pain for me behind the easily mistakable sorrow of her child growing up. But there's a flash of something when Haymitch whispers in her ear. Her eyes are on me suddenly.

"May I have this dance?" Gale appears out of nowhere and his hand is extended to me.

"Most certainly," I feign a Capital accent and take his hand. He leads us to a less crowded spot on the floor. "I was worried you'd left," I admit. "I didn't see you for a long time."

"Pollux was showing me the flower arrangements."

"I had no idea you were so interested in flowers," I laugh.

A new waltz begins.

"I don't think the flowers are as interesting as the conservatory in which they are grown. There's so much space below those beds, did you know?"

I shake my head, my brow furrowing.

"For the roots to grow down. They've left a long, long tunnel below each bed. A tree could grow through it. Hell, a person could fit through there. Many people."

"Really?" I say slowly.

"Yep," he smiles for a passing photographer.

"Where do the tunnels go to?"

"Well, here's the smart bit. They go to a drainage pipe that leads out of the Capital. You know, so the water can filter all the way down to the roots."

I close my eyes. "That is clever."

"Very clever."

I open my eyes. "I'd very much like to see that someday."

"You'll see it very soon, I'm sure."

"I'd want to show Peeta too."

He doesn't answer.

"They're his gardens after all," I press. "And Pollux is his friend." My voice breaks and I steady my nerves.

Gale doesn't meet my eye right away. "I told Pollux you held your husband in very high regard. He does as well. I can't…There's no way to know if everyone feels that way."

"I can see that. But I will make sure everyone knows it."

The song ends and we applaud the musicians. In the clamor, I ask. "When?"

"As soon as possible. Not sure. Soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon."

I try to maintain a smile, but I'm full of dread. I'm too late to stop it.

* * *

><p>The fireworks display is dazzlingly beautiful and the perfect ending to the night. Peeta and I watch from the steps of the conservatory with his jacket draped over my shoulders in the chilly evening air. As the guests bid farewell to us, I shake hands of all the people I've only met tonight. I wonder how many of them will survive the coming days. I can't help but stare at the plant beds surrounding us. They're going to bring doom to this house. I wish Pollux had permitted to stay in sight when the guests came through. I'd beg him to give Peeta his hunting rifle when the rebels come. But he's gone. I'm on my own.<p>

"You look tired," his smiling voice murmurs in my ear.

"A little," I smile back. We look at each other for moment. I take his hand. "Let's go to our room."

My stomach is full of butterflies walking down the hallway. Peacekeepers are at every corner, but we're no longer dogged now that the Capital seal is on my hand. I belong to the Capital now. I feel Peeta's warm hand in mine. I belong to Peeta.

Our room is warm and the maids have turned down the bed for us. There's a bottle of champagne resting in a silver ice basin. "Would you like some?" Peeta asks. I shake my head no. I drape his jacket over a chair back. He puts the bottle back into the ice.

I lean against the bed. "Come here."

He comes over to me. I look at his eyes. _He loves me._

"Will you help me with my dress?" I whisper. He nods.

I stand and turn around so he can find the hidden zipper that runs behind the sash. I feel the air hit my flesh as the zipper slides down my back. I slip the sash over my head and let the dress fall to my ankles. I step out of it and turn around nervously. He stares at me. His wife.

I stretch out my arms around him and drive my bare chest to his shirt. The shirt is soft, but the fabric gently scratches my tender skin, waking nerves. I press my lips to his.

He's awake and alive immediately. His fingers explore my back before sliding to my hips and around. They move torturously slow as they find their way up to my breasts. Our lips still locked, he lets the pads of his thumbs circle the nipples and I moan into his mouth. I pull back and attack the shirt buttons clumsily, but from the way he's after the skin of my neck and earlobes I don't think he minds. His fingers are struggling with the zipper of his pants and when he finally frees himself of them he tries to push off his shoes and pants with his toes. We fall onto the bed backwards.

We successfully free him from his shoes and socks. He kneels over me, tracing my lips with his fingers. His fingers slide down my body and goosebumps rise behind his touch. His fingers are at my underwear when he finally notices the boots.

He slides his fingers down my legs and comes back to kneel on the floor to grasp each and pull them off. I prop up on my elbows to see his face. He looks at me. I can't read his thoughts.

"My huntress," he whispers. It's a passionate growl.

Our patience has worn thin and he pulls my underwear down quickly, licking his lips and panting from the hot kisses. I gasp when he pushes my knees apart to stare at me.

When he kisses the space between my thighs, I fall of my elbows and groan as I stretch out on the cool sheets. His tongue explores me and sends volts of energy through my limbs. He pushes a finger inside me while gently circling my most sensitive part and I bite my palm to cover my cries. Another finger lifts my hips off the bed. He pumps his fingers to watch me writhe and gasp his name. His eyes are fiery and dark. His jaw is slack as he watches me beg him for more. His hands move faster. I feel my being clamp down onto his fingers while the world spins around us.

I'm still seeing stars when he pushes his underwear down off his hips and climbs between my legs. I look at him and reach to touch him. I guide him towards me and he wets himself in my excitement. I hold him at my entrance and he watches my face carefully. I nod.

The first push still burns, but I find a thrill in the sensation of stretching to accept him inside me. He moves slowly. I feel the pressure building in parts of me I didn't know existed. They crave more.

I push back against him and spread my legs wider. He starts to thrust deep inside me, forcing cries of pleasure from my throat. He muffles them as he kisses my mouth between gasps of my name. He shifts his hips and I dig my nails into his arms and back. He leans up on his elbows to look in my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you," I breathe as he moves.

It's too much for him and he yells, squeezing his eyes shut and hanging on to my hips to hold himself inside me.

We lay in silence, listening to one another's breathing in the quiet room.

"You're so beautiful," he finally murmurs into my ear, gently withdrawing. He's still trying to catch his breath. He leans over me and gazes down at my face. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," I say again. I ignore the guilt laced into my words.

We take a bath together and I laugh as he tries to braid my hair with disastrous results. When we finally settle into bed, I chase after elusive sleep for hours. We have so little time left before the end of everything he's known.

I watch his profile in the dim light of the room. _He loves me. _Will he survive what's coming?


	8. Chapter 8

"What's happening?"

Peeta shakes me awake roughly and I'm confused. "Katniss, wake up! Something's wrong." I can hear shouting and crashes outside our thick security door. A siren sounding inside the room nearly drowns out our voices.

A brilliant red alarm light has descended from the ceiling and is flashing a warning to the room.

He leaps out of bed and runs to his closet. "Peeta, I only have my dress!" I grab my underwear off the floor, putting it on inside out in my haste.

"Here," he calls, tossing me a pair of his pants and a belt. He throws a tee shirt across the bed and reappears, pulling a tee shirt over his own head. He has his own boots in his hand, but he yanks a shirt over my head first before getting his shoes on.

The commotion outside is getting louder. Something is coming closer. I can hear gunfire.

"What's happening?" I cry out again as I pull my boots on, but I know the answer already. They've come for me. For him.

"I don't know," he answers, his voice filled with ear. "There are a lot of strangers here. Katniss." I still my hands and look at him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

My guilt is growing. "I won't let anyone hurt you either, Peeta."

"I love you." He grabs his jacket from the wingback chair where I left it. "It's going to be cold, take this."

He touches the side of his bed frame and a hidden panel swings out, making me jump. He pulls out a long, thin rifle. He looks at my confusion. "It's just my rifle for fox hunting," he shrugs. "I'm no good, maybe you should take it."

I shake my head. "I've never fired a gun."

He lets a sad laugh escape. "It's good we can both run fast."

The gunfire is right outside the door. "Let's go."

He pulls me into the closet and puts his shoulder against a low dresser. As it slides a to the right, I see the square hatchway appear. "It's an escape route," he explains, kicking the square in. Dust billows from the hole.

I freeze. "Is there one in my old room?"

"Yes," he says, knowing my concern. "Their guards will know to take them this way. We'll meet up with your family and get out."

He searches just inside the door and finds a flashlight. "C'mon," he urges. "Katniss, they'll be okay."

He seems sincere, so I steel my nerves and step into the hatchway. _They'll be safe_, I tell myself. It's him I need to worry about.

We run through a low tunnel, the thin light from the flashlight offering little help. The air smells damp and musty. We seem to be descending. I can hear noise all around us.

"Where are we?" I whisper.

"We're behind the walls," he says in a hushed voice and he squeezes my hand.

We run blindly, covering the length of a hallway. I stumble and he catches me; he does the same and I pull him back up. The air grows colder.

"Are we outside?"

"We're coming up on the root cellar. We'll get outside from the conservatory."

I can't stop running in time. He rounds a corner and pushes open the doorway with the crack of light framing the hatch.

"Peeta, no!"

We emerge straight into a rebel soldier. His gun is at Peeta's temple.

"No!" I scream and push Peeta to the floor. The hunting rifle clatters away. I climb on top of his back and spread my body over his. "Don't hurt him!"

"Katniss!" Peeta pushes himself up, but I wrap my arms around his back to keep him down. He struggles against me.

"Hold your fire!"

I look up and when distracted Peeta is able to sit up. "Gale!" I stand up and grip Peeta's arm. The rebel soldiers around us still have their firearms raised. I step in front of Peeta and reach behind to hold his hands so he doesn't move away from my shield. "Lower your weapons." They ignore me.

Gale steps through them. "Are you all right?"

I nod. "What's going on?"

"Lower your weapons," he orders before turning back to me. The rebels do so, but leave the guns cocked. "We got through the perimeter pretty quickly but there are more Peacekeepers than we anticipated, but we were able to replace a lot more of the guests with our own forces that originally planned. We'll get through to get to the President shortly."

"What?"

Peeta's voice is a whisper in my ear. His hands twitch away from me.

"What are you going to do to my father?" He takes half a step a step around me so he can see Gale's face clearly.

Gale doesn't answer. He looks back to me.

"Katniss?" I close my eyes. "Katniss, what is your cousin talking about?"

"I'm not her cousin."

I turn my slowly. I can't bear the pain in his eyes. "Peeta…I'm so sorry."

Horror sweeps his features. He stumbles backwards from me. A rebel soldier grabs his arms behind his back.

"Don't hurt him!" I shove the soldier away from Peeta, but Gale pulls me back.

"Just bind him," he says firmly. "He's not dangerous to us."

Peeta doesn't struggle while they tie his hands. His eyes are on me. Mine are on his. "You knew?" he asks softly. "You knew?"

"Not everything" I implore. "Just…that it was coming. I didn't plan for any of this, I promise." I try to hold back the tears.

"You. You-you married me to distract me?" It's a mixture of shock and agony. I don't know how to protest. I don't think it's untrue. "You said you loved me." He crumbles before my eyes. It's like I watch his heart break apart into his chest.

"Get them to the hovercrafts outside," Gale says quickly. "Get them to Thirteen."  
>"I have to wait for Prim!" I protest. "Their guards will bring them here."<p>

"Who's got the Everdeens?" Gale calls out.

A soldier calls back from the hall. "Cressida's team went for them. They haven't come back yet."

"Cressida's good, Katniss. He'll bring them back. You've got to go now."

"I can't leave them."

"You'll be a target, Kat! Both of you!" He eyes Peeta. "Snow will send a team to get him back and kill you. You've got to go. Now."

"I can't!"

"Go!" He shoves me roughly towards the door that leads out to the gardens. I see several small hovercrafts waiting outside. They are not marked with the Capital seal. They are marked with the number 13. "Go."

The rebel soldiers start to pull Peeta to the door. He starts to struggle and a rough-looking man punches him hard in the stomach. He folds and coughs. "No!" I shove the large man away. "He's not our enemy!"

"Katniss, go!" Gale pushes me out the door and motions for the others to carry Peeta after me. I finally obey. I need to stay with Peeta. I have to protect him myself. We hurry across the lawn in the darkness. I estimate it's three or four in the morning. Closer to morning than night. I reach the first hovercraft and pull open the door. I look behind to help Peeta up the ramp with his hands bound.

He jerks away from my touch.

The soldiers drag him on to the craft and throw him unceremoniously on to the floor. He kicks into a seated position against a wall as I climb on after him. The soldiers enter after him, guns trained on his heart.

"Stop it," I snarl. "He's unarmed and his hands are tied. What's he going to do to you?"

They reluctantly lower their weapons, but take post on opposites sides of where he sits staring at his feet.

I sit on a bench opposite him.

"Peeta-"

He shakes his head. His eyes are squeezed shut.

"Peeta, I didn't-"

"Please."

We leave the Capital.

* * *

><p>"Where are you taking him?" I can't stop the soldiers when we arrive at Thirteen. It's not at all what I saw on television all these years. The buildings are still tattered on the surface, but the underground world I've discovered is as advanced as the Capital.<p>

We disembarked the hovercraft at what appears to be a single-story structure no bigger than my old Seam house. But when the door opens I can see the elevator and stairwell bays. It's a portal to the underground network of their city.

The bing of an elevator comes and the door of the center car opens. Six new rebels scramble out, swarming Peeta and dragging him away from me. I'm trying to chase after him but they're holding me back. I scream for him. He looks over his shoulder at me once. He's afraid.

"Katniss?"

"Haymitch!" I yank away from the guards and run to him as he appears around the hovercraft. "Stop them! They're going to kill him!"

He reaches me and grips my arm. "No, they're not. I promise. They're just putting him in a holding cell down below. He'll be safe."

"What?" I'm trying to see him again but he's surrounded as the car door closes and the elevator begins to descend. "How do you know?"

"He's our insurance." I bring my eyes back to Haymitch.

"What?"

"He's going to be kept hostage. If we can't get to Snow, we needed a bargaining tool to have our demands met. Peeta's the only family he has." He can see my terror. "He won't be hurt, Katniss, I promise. I told Coin he's no danger to us."

"Who?"

"She's the…leader of this rebellion, I guess. Come on, you'll need to meet her."

* * *

><p>I sit in the darkness of the room I've been assigned. I can't turn on the lights and face this day. I haven't seen Peeta since I arrived. I haven't seen Prim. I haven't seen my mother. I can't stand Coin.<p>

She was cold and calculating. I guess she needs to be to make this possible. But I can see the only reason she agreed not to kill Peeta was that Haymitch played the hostage card on my behalf. If Snow is killed today, there's a good chance she'll execute him.

_She'll kill my husband._ The thought sneaks through my brain. He's my husband. We were married less than twenty-four hours ago. I lean my forehead down and press my face to my knees. I'm still wearing his clothes. I'm still wearing my wedding band.

The knock is soft, but I can hear it.

"Katniss?"

"Gale!" I jump up and open the door. I gasp. His forehead is bandaged. Dried blood is caked in his hair. I cover my mouth to hide my shot of horror.

"I'm okay," he murmurs.

"Oh, Gale," I moan, wrapping my arms around him. He sighs as he holds me.

"Come sit down, you look pale," I tell him, taking his hand to pull him into my room.

"Um."

The small sound, barely a word, is said with such fear I freeze in my footsteps. I know him too well. My eyes are wide as I turn back to look at him. "What?"

"You should sit, Katniss."

My pulse still. "No. What is it?"

Gale stands inside my door, unwilling to move as I stare him down. His eyes are terrified.

"What happened?" My mind is on Peeta.

"We got to the City Center," he says quickly. "They were completely unprepared for us, we've got most of the city under our control." He laughs dejectedly. "Barely took six hours to secure the outer city, can you believe it? It's not even dinner time…" His voice trails off.

"Gale."

"Snow got away from us," he forces out. "He's got a fortified secured room under the mansion. You can't even access it from the conservatory. I guess only he knew about it. Pollux, Finnick, Johanna, nobody knew about it. He got there and he's secured in."

I stare at him. I don't know why he would find this hard to tell me. There's a piece missing.

His voice breaks and he can't look me in the eye. "Katniss."

I know what he's going to say before he can get it out.

"No!" I scream and stumble back.

"She's alive, Katniss. Prim's alive and she's okay. But he's got her with him."

* * *

><p>My mother's arms around me offer no comfort. "How did she get away from you?" I demand before saying even a hello.<p>

She looks injured by my words. Her eyes spot the wedding band. "Guards came through the front door as Johanna was taking us through the passage," she weeps. "They took her from my arms." She dissolves into sobbing.

Johanna's hand is on my shoulder. I glance at her bandaged face and bruised neck. There's a line of stitches running across her hairline. "There were too many," she murmurs. "I'm sorry, Kat, I tried to get her back."

"We're going to get her back," I say firmly. "I know what he wants."

"Miss Everdeen? Mrs. Everdeen?" Paylor appears from the closed office door. "Coin's ready to see you."

I take my mother's hand reluctantly and follow the second-in-command into the office. I wave to Johanna that I'll see her later.

Coin doesn't look up from her tactical maps as Paylor comes back with us. "I understand he's got your sister."

I hate her. "Yes."

"In the secured vault?"

"Yes, " my mother chokes out.

"Do you have any code speak with her?" I don't answer. "I take that silence as a no."

"I don't understand what you're talking about," I say.

"Children in Thirteen learn how to speak in code," she says dismissively. "So if there is trouble they can relay information or coordinates to us. I thought other Districts would have developed similar strategies."

"Other Districts aren't hiding underground," I snap.

She looks up with me. I don't think she likes me either.

"We need information on how to get into the vault."

"And you want Prim to give it to you?"

"She's the only District citizen in there. It's only Snow and Peacekeepers."

"How do you know?"

"Because he contacted us this morning."

My mother falls heavily into a chair, causing me to stumble as she grips my hand tighter. "Is she all right?" Her voice is a hoarse whisper.

"Seems like the tracker jacker venom was wearing off when we saw her," Coin says lightly. "She was able to say her name," Coin says. I can't believe this woman can speak so carelessly of a thirteen year old girl's life.

My mother covers her face with her palm and sobs.

"It was only to see if she had information," Paylor steps in quickly. "He says he realizes she knew nothing of the plans and she seems to be in good condition."

Coin clears her throat. "He wants to make a trade, of course. Peeta for her. I told him we'd think about it."

I finally lose it. I throw off my mother's hand.

"You'd think about it?" I scream at her. Paylor winces. "The hell you'll think about it! You'll do it!"

Coin sighs. She sets down the map of the presidential mansion and stands up straight. She's a good five inches taller than me.

"Miss Everdeen, if you cannot control your temper you will find yourself in a holding cell beside your husband." She sneers the word at me.

"At least I know he has a heart," I growl.

"Paylor, take her to the basement," Coin orders.

"Wait," Paylor steps between us. She looks to me. "Katniss, I know this is terrifying for you. But he won't hurt her as long as we have his son. She's alive and we're going to get her back somehow."

"How?"

"We don't need to get her back," Coin insists. "Snow's vault is the only thing he's got. We have control of the train station, hovercrafts, fuel, hospital and the drainage tunnel. They're crippled. He can't get in or out. We just have to wait it out."

"And how long will it take for his allies to send help?" My words surprise Coin and Paylor. "I've met hundreds of his supporters. They are not going to give up their privilege easily. Give them the time and they'll organize a resistance just like yours. And then where will you be?"

Coin looks skeptical but Paylor is listening.

"We have to draw him out."

* * *

><p>Coin marches in to the conference room where I wait, flanked by several other officers, Gale and Haymitch. A bespectacled man with a crouched figure slips over to me while Coin orders her soldiers to the various stations around the room.<p>

"You must be Katniss," he whispers, offering his hand.

"Yes," I say, furrowing my brow. "Who are you?"

"I'm Beetee." He sees my confusion. "Oh, sorry. I forgot Peeta promised never to tell. I'm his friend from District Three. I helped him disable the hovercraft so he could visit you. And scramble the phones." Beetee gives me a shy smile.

I lunge forward and grip his shoulders. "Is he all right? Have you seen him?"

Beetee glances over his shoulder at Coin before whispering back to me. "Two days ago. He's all right."

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Beetee! Is the patch ready?" Coin barks.

"Excuse me," he murmurs, and moves to his station.

The unyielding woman moves to me. "Here's how we're going to play this. Beetee will patch us through to the secured station. I'll tell Snow we have his son, we want Prim and tell him we want a public trade-"

"No."

We all look to Gale. He's looking at me. "She should do it."

Coin shakes her head. "I'm the president of this operation."

"And she's his daughter-in-law," Gale tells her. He looks to me. "You're the one connected to both Peeta and Prim. You should do it."

I nod. "I know."

Coin pulls a chair over with an angry sigh. "Sit down." I comply.

"You promise nothing," she says, circling me. "We just need him to agree to a public trade off to get him out bunker. Do not give any details. Once we have a way to get him out, we'll call him back. Understood?"

I nod again. "Understood."

Beetee clears his throat. "The patch is ready."

My mother gasps and tries to cover her tears. Gale moves to her and takes her hand. Haymitch motions for me to sit at Beetee's station.

"Are you ready?" Coin asks.

"Yes."

There's a pop and hiss of static electricity.

"I was wondering when we would hear from you," Snow says. His voice is smooth as ice over the speakerphone.

"Hello, President Snow," I measure carefully.

"Ah, it's my beloved Katniss," he laughs. "So good to hear you're safe and secure."

"I am," I growl. Haymitch puts his hand on my shoulder. He shakes his head. I settle my hatred.

"If you don't mind, I do so much prefer to see the person I'm speaking too. Our video frequency is 5800mHz."

Beetee glances at me. I nod eagerly. He enters the frequency into his station and the screen in front of my chair buzzes to life.

"Ah," Snow smiles at my angry and fearful face projected back to him. "There you are. And here she is."

He pushes Prim in front of the camera. I look at Prim's trembling form. Her eyes are wide and hollow. Her pupils are large empty black pools. Her fear and my own are identical. "Katniss?" she asks weakly.

He immediately pushes her aside.

"Prim!" I cry out.

"We are offering a trade," Snow says coldly, ignoring me. "You return my son. I return your sister. If you refuse –if you damage him – she will suffer."

I stare at the screen. "We accept."

Coin darts forward and covers the microphone. "Katniss -"

"He's going to kill my sister!" I scream at her.

"She's one person, Katniss! One in an entire war."

I stand up. I speak my words with venom. "She's my sister."

"Wait." Gale leans over and uncovers the microphone. "Work out the details of the tradeoff. A public place. Call back in one hour."

"Agreed," Snow's smile is wide and menacing. The screen goes black.

"You would give away our leverage to save one small life?" Coin turns on me.

"Yes!" I scream in her face.

"This is our opportunity." We turn to look at Gale. "We insist Snow show up personally. We guarantee you show up personally," he nods to me. "You know he's trying to draw you out too. When we make the tradeoff we have a sniper ready for Snow."

"They'll have the same plan," Coin insists. "The rooftops will be covered."

"And we're the only one with fuel for our hovercrafts," he reminds her. "Besides, the sniper won't be on the rooftop. I'll be standing next to Katniss."

I stare at him. "Gale, that's suicide. He'll have armed guards around him."

He looks at me. "We'll have guards too."

Haymitch speaks up. "It'll be a bloodbath at those close range. There's a good chance no one will survive."

"Not even Prim," I whisper.

"You'll get her out of there first," Gale says. "As soon as the trade is done, you take her and leave."

"But-"

"It's worth it, Katniss. This is our freedom. It's worth it."

I nod and steady myself. "I want to give him the option to stay."

"What?" Coin and Paylor speak in unison.

"When we make the trade. I want to offer Peeta the chance to back out and come back with us."

"Out of the question. He cannot stay here," Coin says.

"He's not one of them," I plead. "He's kind and generous. He was planning on reinventing this country when he was in charge. He's not his father."

"If he comes back here, he will be executed."

I glare at Coin. "You'll kill him if he stays with Snow, what's the difference?" I smile as I realize her fear. "Afraid he'd get elected easier than you?"

She's about to order my own execution when Paylor again steps in. "He can have immunity, Alma," she murmurs. "He knows his father's allies, he can fetter them out for us. Earn his life." She glances back at me. "In exile in the Districts."

Coin's jaw is set. Suddenly a malicious smile creeps over her face. "Well, if you think he'll be so useful…Agreed."

I wonder if I'm the only one who knows she's lying.

I remember my promise. I'm going to have to protect him myself.

* * *

><p>The elevator opens at the bottom floor of the underground headquarters building. The soldier named Jackson and Gale lead me down a hallway that smells of mildew. It's dark and musty.<p>

"Is it all cells?" I ask.

"There are some weapons testing down here," Jackson answers. "Mostly cells."

"How many prisoners do you have?"

"A few of the wedding guests, generals. That guy that owns the emerald mine."

"Carvelle?"

"Yeah."

I try not to smile.

"We weren't trying to take hostages," Jackson explains. "Too many resources needed to keep watch on them."

"You would rather kill them."

"It's not rather, Catnip," Gale says softly. "It's have to. We have to keep our team safe, we can't spend all our time guarding prisoners."

I nod. I wonder how many of the house servants died because there was no time to figure out if they were allies or not. I try not to think about Portia. My prep team. Cinna.

"Here," Gale nods, pointing to a cell labeled 387. He unlocks the door.

Peeta looks up from where he was resting his head on his hands, his elbows on his knees as he sits on the thin cot mattress. "What-" He moves to stand but stops when he sees me. "Oh." He settles back down, eyes on his knees.

"Hi," I say lamely. He doesn't answer. I glance at Gale and Jackson. "Um. Can you wait outside?"

"Is that safe?" Jackson asks. I roll my eyes. "Okay," he says. "I'll be right down the hall checking on the other prisoners."

Gale touches my elbow. "I'll be right outside," he whispers. "The security camera's on, you'll be safe."

"I know," I insist. He shrugs and goes out of the room, pulling the door nearly closed behind him.

"What do you want?" Peeta's voice is hard and angry.

I look at him a moment before answering. He looks well; I don't think he's been mistreated. _Except by me_, I remember. He does look tired and the food on the tray by the door is barely half-eaten.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine. Thanks. You can go now."

"Peeta, please," I saw, kneeling down to try to look him in the eye. He stands and moves away from me to the corner of his tiny cell. I sigh and sit where he was on the cot.

"Your dad has my sister."

His shoulders stiffen for a moment. He turns around very slowly.

"Is...she okay?"

I look away. "He injected her with tracker venom. To see if she'd talk."

His breath catches. He stares at the floor in shock.

"She's going to be okay." He looks relieved. "She didn't know anything, so they're leaving her alone." I pause. "He wants to trade."

His eyes finally meet mine. "Her for me."

"Yeah."

"So. Why are you telling me? Why not just take me back to my father now?"

I pick at my standard-issue soldier pants. "You don't have to go back," I tell him.

"What?"

"You could stay," I offer. "When we go to make the trade. If you want, you can come back with us."

He stares at me. "Why would I do that?"

I swallow hard. "You know…they'll try to kill your father. He'll try to kill us. If you leave with Prim and come back here, you'll be safer. You'll be granted immunity."

I can't bear the look of pain I've put on his face. He's silent for a long time.

He takes a ragged breath. "I'll die with my father."

"Peeta, please." I finally let the tears out. "I never meant to hurt you! I was trying to protect my family."

"By lying to me?" He's crying too now. "I asked you," he chokes out. "You said you were happy."

"I was," I whisper.

"Happy I believed you," he scoffs miserably. "Happy you tricked me into marrying you."

"No! I thought if I didn't your dad would hurt my family!"

"I would never let anything happen to any of you! I loved you!" he screams. He covers his face and lets a sob escape.

"Peeta-"

"Get out!" he shouts. He lunges forward and takes a hold of my hand. He roughly yanks off the gold wedding ring on my finger. Gale opens the door quickly, but Peeta's not trying to hurt me. He's shoving me out the door. "Go back to your lover!" He screams as he pushes me into Gale's arms.

"Peeta, he's not-"

"Get her out of here." Peeta slams the door to his own cell.


	9. Chapter 9

The ride to the City Center is tense and silent. Twelve soldiers in our hovercraft. Peeta bound and mute on the floor. I stare at him. He ignores me.

I made Gale promise to keep his refusal of immunity a secret. "In case he changes his mind," I had told him, nearly begging.

_I'll die with my father._ His words reopen the wound. He'd rather die than stay with me.

Coin is on my left. She leans in and calls over the sound of the engine. "Remember stay out of the way, Everdeen. You get your sister and you get out. Don't do anything stupid." She thrusts her chin towards where Peeta sits. "He'll make his own choices, you worry about your own."

I hate her.

I look out the window at the five hovercrafts flanking us. They'll break off shortly and find stations around the perimeter of the city. They'll be ready to open fire on her signal. I look back to Peeta.

He's looking up at me. He looks away when my eyes meet his.

I slip my military issue rifle off my shoulder and slide off the bench to sit in front of him. Gale moves to help me back up but I refuse his hand. I lean in close to Peeta's ear. He tries to pull away and I grip shoulder until I'm probably hurting him.

"Please change your mind," I say to his ear, hoping the engine is covering my words. "She'll kill you."

I draw back to look in his eyes. He shakes his head sadly. He drops his gaze to the binds on his hands. He shifts his position and pushes a hand into his pocket. The guard named Boggs on his right lifts his weapon quickly. "Hold it." I immediately put my hand over the barrel of the gun. I stare Boggs down. He lowers his weapon.

Peeta waits until he's sure he won't be shot before pulling out the wedding ring he took back from me yesterday. He holds it out to me awkwardly. "You might as well keep this after all. I won't need it now."

I let him set the gold band in my palm. It's warm from his pocket. I slide it back onto my left ring finger. I look back up to my husband.

I take Peeta's face in my hands and lean forward to kiss him. I slide my fingers through this hair to hold his mouth to mine when he tries to slip away.

A gun butt on my shoulder pushes us apart. "Wrap it up," Coin smirks. "We're descending."

The buildings of the City Center rise up around us at the hovercraft touches down. I see a small assembly gathered on the cobblestones. At least twice our number. I see Gale look sharply to Coin.

"We're not alone here," she says quietly. Peeta is watching the assembly to search for his father.

We open hatches on both sides of this craft and climb out, eight on the side of the assembly and four on the opposite side to look for an ambush. I take Peeta's elbow and guide him out of the craft.

The hovercraft lifts away.

The four rear guard soldiers join us and give us the okay to march to the City Center. It's the longest thirty yards I've ever walked. I glance up on to the viewing screens set up around the circle. Only six months ago my face was on those screens and I glowed. The girl on fire. Now they're activated. Snow wants to make a public show of this bloodbath.

I can see his white hair immediately. The winter sunlight makes it glow. His face is cold and hard. Peeta looks nothing like his father today.

He stands by my side slightly in front of the rest of our detail. We are still as stone. I squeeze my fingers together to feel my wedding ring as we stand in a staggered line in front of his assembled guards. Peacekeepers all, they are as heavily armed as us. Our guns are raised and ready, save Snow's and mine. I glance around the rooftops. I can see figures moving on nearly every building. I wonder who belongs to which army. And whether anyone will survive this day.

The wind whips through our silent meeting.

I call out first. "Where is my sister?"

Snow looks over his shoulder at a Peacekeeper and nods. A slight rustle of movement between the Peacekeepers in the back reveal Prim. She's being half-carried and half-dragged to Snow. I hear Peeta gasp when he sees her.

She's still wearing the beautiful pink dress Cinna made her for my wedding. It's ripped and I see splashes of blood and dirt on it. Her face is green with nausea from the venom. Her tearful eyes find me.

"Primrose," Peeta whispers out loud.

She stumbles at Snow's feet and he hauls her back up to a standing position by her elbow.

"Release my son and I will give you your sister."

"They meet in the center, Snow. That's the deal. And the only deal." I try to sound convincing. I want to throw down my gun and run to Prim now.

He smiles. "A woman of your word. I appreciate that. I'm sure you can appreciate that I will keep mine." He clears his throat and calls to the viewing screens. "You gathered here today. All you rebels fighting in the districts. You know you will not live through this war. Many of you will not live through today. You know if captured you will suffer horrors beyond your imagination. But I can promise you that if you lay down your arms and surrender your families will live. They will not be punished for your insolence and disobedience. That is all I can offer. I suggest you take it."

I can't help but glance over at Gale. His mother, brothers and baby sister are certainly on his mind. I look at Prim. I would gladly suffer to set her free.

"Dad, please," Peeta calls quietly. "We don't need anymore bloodshed."

"Peeta." Snow is quiet in his anger. "Step forward."

Peeta looks at me. I look back. He opens his mouth to speak but words fail. I unbind his hands. He takes a step forward.

Snow pushes Prim in front of him and she falls down. She climbs unsteadily to her feet, her frightened eyes on me.

Peeta takes one step, his eyes on her. She takes another step forward.

The process is agonizingly slow. They are near to passing one another. She stumbles and nearly falls again. Peeta catches her. Prim starts to cry. Snow grins.

"No!" Gale cries out.

"It's just a few more steps, Primrose," Peeta whispers. "You can make it." He releases her. She stares at him in relief and gratitude. Snow's smile disintegrates and his face turns purple with rage.

"Peeta," Snow growls.

"It's the deal," Peeta says firmly. He gently pushes Prim towards me. She smiles through her tears. She's more than halfway to me now. I hold out my arms. She breaks into a run.

Peeta walks deliberately to his father's side. He turns and watches Prim crying into my shoulder as I hold her and weep. I look up at him.

"Thank you," I mouth to Peeta. I press my wedding band to my lips. "Thank you." I see his tears from here.

Snow is not embracing his son.

It's a split moment of discovery for me, like a finding the light switch in a pitch-black room. Snow's goal had nothing to do with getting his son here. It was to get my team here. Peeta was the bait for both of us.

"And now, if you will," Snow says loudly. The Peacekeepers surrounding him aim their rifles. I shove Prim behind me and raise my gun.

"Dad, wait!" Peeta runs forward back into the space between the Capital soldiers and us. Between his father's gun and my heart. He holds his hands up and out, demanding a ceasefire.

"Get out of the way," Snow barks forcefully.

"You know they're right, Dad," Peeta shouts, his arms aloft as he looks over his shoulder at his father. He looks back to me. "They're right."

"What?" Snow's voice is dangerously quiet.

Peeta slowly lowers his arms, eyeing my team to make sure we don't raise our weapons again. "This government is not sustainable. You know that. We've all known that for a long time." Peeta looks up at the monitor screens broadcasting our trade-off. "We knew this day would come."

"Peeta," Snow growls. "Step back behind me. Now."

"Why?" Peeta spins on his father. "What if you win today? What if you kill every last man, woman and child who are fighting today? What do you think will happen in another five years? Ten? The Districts can't survive like this! And neither can we."

He looks back to the monitor screens. "I know you're watching! I know all of the mayors, the diplomats – all of you who have enjoyed the life we offer you here in the Capital. You've taken it all for granted while the people who make it possible suffer and die. And for what? Money you don't need! Food you can't eat! Power you waste." He looks back to his father. "We forced their hand, Dad. This is our fault."

"The changes we need aren't drastic. A small redistribution. Something we can all live with. It's possible," he says over his shoulder at his father. He looks back to me. "This doesn't have to be the end of us."

He raises his arms up, slowly turning in a full circle. "We don't have to die here today. You don't have to kill one another. We can work together to fix what's broken." He's turned back to Gale and me. "Please," he implores us. "Please put down the-"

The crack of the bullet echoes in the square.

I look right and left. No one is moving. "Who was hit?" Gale asks. My eyes fly to Prim, but she's alert and confused. I look down our line. I look at Snow's gun, raised and smoking just slightly.

The red flower blossoms on Peeta's white shirt slowly at first. It gains momentum. He slowly brings his fingertips to touch the hole just to the right of his heart. He looks up at the monitor screen to see his father, because he can't turn around. His eyes drop to me.

"Katniss."

I scream and drop my gun to run forward and catch him before he hits the ground. We both fall as the gunfire begins. Rebels and Peacekeepers scatter for cover as the battle begins.

"Gale! Gale!"

"I'm here!" he shouts over the din.

"I need cover!"

"We got you! Jackson! Boggs!"

I drag Peeta as best I can along the ground. I see two small white hands reach beside me to grasp under his left arm. "Prim! Get out of here!"

"We've got to lift him below his shoulders, Kat," she ignores me, yelling at my ear. "The bullet passed through but we could tear the muscle more if we pull his arms!"

I want to kick her out of this battlefield, but she is the best medic I've known and I'll need her help to save his life. "Stay low!"

I circle my hands under his right armpit and clasp my fingers, mimicking what she does on his left side. We duck low and run in a crouched position, pulling him out of the square center and across to a doorway kicked open by the Leeg sisters. They cover us as we pull Peeta through the doorway.

"Find the bathroom, Katniss." Prim orders me about with medical efficiency.

I run for the stairs, but I find most of the upstairs was hit by a bomb blast. I open the bedroom door and am met with open air; it's demolished. I stumble and nearly fall back down the stairs, through the kitchen and rip open another door.

"There's a bathroom over here!"

"With a tub?" she calls.

"A shower!"

"Close enough."

I come back and we drag Peeta's limp form through the kitchen. He's moaning and sweating, but I can't tell if he's conscious or not. We lay him out on the floor of the shower.

"Find some clean towels."

I run for the linen closet and yank out the soft piles of terry cloth, piling them at her feet.

"Give me your medical kit." I tear open the cargo pocket on my thigh and hand her the tiny box. "Do you have any matches?"

I burst into the kitchen and empty every drawer until I find a box.

"I'll do a temporary patch," she says calmly, threading surgical string through the hooked needle. "Until we can get him back to Thirteen. I'll need you to keep him steady when he starts to wake up." I nod fearfully. She amazes me with her serenity. Even sick and battered, she's a steady surgeon.

"Peeta?" she calls to his deliriousness. "This is really going to hurt."

He doesn't wake up until she's cleaned the wound on the front of his chest and is halfway through stitching it. He tries to sit up screaming, but I half-kneel on his left side and try to calm him while she finishes.

"What happened? Where am-" He has to stop to bite back a scream while she finishes the stitches in front.

"You've got to stay calm," Prim says evenly and gently. "You were shot. You'll be okay; it's missed your heart. But I'm patching you to stop the bleeding until we can get you back to Thirteen."

"Thirteen? Why back to…" He looks confused. His eyes are going out of focus.

"I'm going to have to sew up the wound on your back, Peeta. Katniss is going to roll you over and we'll have you lay on some towels. It's really going to hurt," she says softly, holding his hand. "Do you want something to hold onto?"

He looks fearful, even in his feverish delirium. He nods like a small child with a nightmare.

I ball up a fresh towel and put it in his hands. I gently help him roll onto his stomach and he clutches the towel to his side so the bullet hole on his back is higher in the light for Prim. Prim nods to me and I straddle his back to keep him down. He has to bite into the towel and scream when she pushes the needle through his flesh.

He's lost his voice and is nearly unconscious when she finishes and ties off the knot. She adds more antiseptic to gauzy bandages and I slide off him to help her tape over her work. He's breathing hard and his eyes are squeezed shut. I run my fingers through his damp hair. "Can we give him a minute to rest?" I ask my little sister.

Prim nods. "We'll need hovercraft to get him back. I think he's in shock; he may be able to walk to the train station but I doubt he'll get the entire way."

We watch him mutter and sigh to himself in his waking dream state. "Thank you," I whisper. I wipe a tear away. "Thank you so much Prim."

She takes my hand. "He's my brother-in-law," she whispers with a sad smile.

"Katniss!" Gale is at the door suddenly and we jump. "It's only me," he says.

"We need to get to a hovercraft," I stand up. "We've got to get him out of here."

"I know, I called one in. I don't know how long it'll take but the rendezvous area is the only secured location. The Leegs are going to get you three back there."

"What about you?"

He looks at Peeta's limp form. "I'm going after Snow."

He helps get Peeta up to drape an arm over my shoulder and one of the Leeg twins gets under his other arm. Prim kicks open a side door off the kitchen. "There's an alley this way!"

"Gale," I call. He appears at my side. "Please. Be careful."

His eyes find mine. "You too, Catnip."

He runs out the front door.

"Let's go," I tell the Leeg leading us.

* * *

><p>I watch my mother and Prim repair Peeta's shoulder through the glass window on the door to the operation room. They are so alike; I have to marvel how they can ignore their own pain to serve others. There's a line of injured soldiers waiting for their attention and they move swiftly and meticulously as dancers.<p>

Prim looks to the window as they finish bandaging Peeta. She smiles and comes outside.

"He'll be all right."

I fall to my knees and hold her again. "Prim."

"I'm okay, Katniss," she whispers. "Thank you for coming for me."

"Prim," I cry. "I would always come for you. I love you."

She wipes her eyes. "I love you too."

Footsteps behind us draw our attention. Two guards are waiting.

"What's wrong?" I stand up.

"Is the young Snow finished in surgery?"

"Yes, but he needs to rest," Prim answers for me.

"How long?"

"At least overnight," she frowns. "We'll have to see how he's doing."

The guards exchange a glance. "I can stay watch tonight," the female guard says to the male.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We're supposed to get him back to the holding cells," she explains. "When he's recovered."

"What? Why?"

"Coin left instructions before you left," she says slowly. "If he came back he had to be under observation."

"He can't recover down there," Prim protests.

"Where is she?" I growl.

"She and your strike team haven't returned yet," the male soldier tells me.

I look over my shoulder at Peeta's inert form. "You tell me when she's back," I snarl.

* * *

><p>"Katniss? Katniss, wake up!"<p>

I know the voice at the door. I wake up and throw my legs off the bed. Prim sits up. "What?" she murmurs in her dazed waking. My mother is on her feet, blinking as I flip on the light.

"Gale!" I throw open the door. My arms are around him. I can feel the bandages around his ribs under his shirt. "You're all right!"

I pull back to look at him. He lets a smile grow across his bruised face. "I got him," he murmurs.

"What?" It's a whisper. I can't express the relief. "He's gone?"

He nods. His smile falters. "We…we lost Coin."

I shake my head. I can't focus on her. I pull him inside and sit him in a chair. Prim is at my side. "What happened?"

"He nearly got back to his secured base," he tells her, glancing over at my mother. "He had a huge detail in the Capital. You were right," he nods to me. "His allies were already sending backup. "Coin went for the shot, but his personal bodyguard was too fast. Hit her in the neck." He shudders. "He looked over his shoulder, back at her. To laugh, I think. And I got him." Gale points to a spot above his left eye. "Right there."

Prim starts to cry. "Prim?" My mother puts her hand on her shaking shoulder.

"I'm okay," she stammers. I'm sure it's shame at her own relief that her tormentor is dead. Even in her pain she has compassion.

"Who's going to lead the new government now?" I ask.

"Paylor," Gale sighs. "She was the next in command. She had the backing of the soldiers already. Makes sense."

I close my eyes. "Good." I take a deep breath. "Does he know?"

Gale shakes his head. "I don't know."

"He's probably still asleep," Prim says hopefully.

"I should tell him," I say finally. "It should be me."

"I'll do it, Kat. I killed him."

"No, Gale. I've got to tell him."

"You can tell him in the morning," my mother says gently. "Let him sleep a little longer."

My mother eventually shoos Gale back to his room to rest and he gratefully agrees. I kiss his cheek and he gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand. I see Prim back to bed and turn off the light.

I lay awake until the alarm rings. I shut it off quickly before Prim stirs. My mother sighs in her sleep. I stare at them both for a moment. Maybe Prim would understand why I have to do this, but even she is glad Snow is dead. My mother doesn't understand why this is hard for me. _Because it's hard for him,_ I answer myself.

I quietly pull off my nightgown and open the dresser drawer silently. I find a pair of pants and shirt and sneak into the bathroom to wash my face and smooth my hair. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm startled when I recognize myself. _I know who this is,_ I realize. _I am the woman who rebuild Panem for her family. And who made a promise to protect Peeta Snow._

I slip out of the door as I hear stirring in the hallways. The early morning change of duties is going on and I sneak around corners to stay quiet and alone in my journey down to the elevator bay. I press the button and hold my breath. I sigh out when the door opens to an empty car.

I cringe when the bell announces my arrival on the hospital floor. I poke my head out of the car and look around. Nurses and doctors move around the hallways, but no one pays attention to me. I steal quietly out of the car and keep my head down as I slip into recovering room.

The lights are still dim when I push open the door to let the patients rest. I stand at the door and wait for my eyes to adjust. Shapes and beds emerge before my eyes in the darkness. I start moving around the room, looking at the patients' peaceful faces.

"Katniss?" The whispered voice halts my footsteps.

"Yes?" I whisper into the darkness.

"It's Finnick."

I turn around to the source of the voice. "Finnick?" My whisper is too loud and the patient I stand near stirs.

"He's over here."

I tiptoe over to the bed I can see him sitting by. I can see Peeta's form and hear his steady breathing. "What are you doing here?"

"I volunteered to take a guard shift," he murmurs. "I wanted to be here when he woke up. In case someone came to tell him…" He pauses in the darkness. I can imagine him looking at Peeta's face. "I wanted to be here for him."

I nod, but I realize he probably can't see my face. "Thank you, Finnick. I...I don't think…they understand."

"They don't." I see his eyes shine as his eyes come back to mine. "He's not safe here."

"He's not safe out there," I add. "Finnick. I'm not going to let anything happen to him. I promise."

His whisper comes out a laugh. "Katniss, I don't think that's a promise you can keep."

"Coin granted him immunity," I protest.

"And she's dead, Katniss."

"Paylor agreed. She'll keep her word."

"She would. Would everyone else?"

I don't answer.

"Katniss, his father murdered a lot of people. Sent children to die. My wife has never been the same since her turn in the Arena."

"Wife?" The whisper escapes me.

"Yeah," he laughs quietly. "I couldn't even tell anyone I got married. For her safety." I hear him shift in the seat. "Peeta doesn't even know. He'd have wanted to send a gift," he smiles.

"He's not his father."

"No, he's not. You know that. Haymitch does, I think. I know it. But who else?"

"Portia."

"She's dead, Katniss," he whispers gently. "She didn't make it past the assault."

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"They're going to try to kill him. Even if it's not a public execution…there's going to be an accident."

"No," I say aloud. Peeta stirs and sighs.

"He's sedated," Finnick whispers.

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"Katniss," Finnick sighs. "Maybe you should go. We'll wake him up. Let's talk about this later."

"No. I'm…I'm going to tell him his father's gone."

I think I can see him nodding. "Okay. I think that's a good idea. It coming from you, I mean. But let it wait. Let him sleep a little longer, okay?"

"I don't want anyone else to burst in here-"

"I'm on watch until noon. I'll make sure no one tells him. I give you my word. I'll keep him sedated if I have to."

I take a deep breath. "Okay. I'll come back…at ten?"

"Eleven."

"Okay. Eleven."

I let my hand search the covers. I find Peeta's warm hand. I bring his fingers to my lips. "I'll protect you, Peeta. I promise." I let his hand fall back to his side. He sighs and a moan escapes. My chest hurts.

"Goodbye, Finnick," I whisper.

I'm back to my room a few minutes later. Prim is brushing her teeth while my mother sleeps on.

"Is he all right?"

"He's still asleep," I whisper to her. "Finnick is on guard. I'm going back at eleven."

Prim is thoughtful while she rinses the brush.

"He's a good man."

I smile. "They both are."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean he's gone?" I'm frantic. Patients are waking fearfully and crying out as I tear to his bed and rip back the curtain.<p>

It's useless. The bed is empty.

"Where is he?" I scream.

"I don't know, Katniss," Paylor says slowly, trying to calm me. "I thought you might know." She eyes me carefully. "Do you know where he is?"

"No!" I shout, kicking over the chair where Finnick was keeping watch. I glare at her. "But I promise you if I did I would never tell you. I'm not going to let you kill him!"

"Katniss, I'm not trying to kill him! I'm trying to help you protect him."

"Like hell you are," I spit.

"I am!" She pulls me to the bed and yanks the privacy curtain around us. "Be quiet and listen," she whispers. "I know what Coin wanted to happen. I know she wanted Snow's line to die. A lot of people did. But I made you a promise. And I intend to keep it."

"He doesn't deserve to die."

She nods. "I heard what he said. And I saw what he did for Prim. He could have taken her back to his father and he didn't." She leans in to my ear. "Katniss, if you know where he is, you've got to tell me. I'll get a dispatch to him to guard him. He needs protection."

I shake my head. "I don't know where he is," I cry. "I should never have left his side."

Paylor watches me, looking for a lie. She finds none. "It's okay," she says finally. "Look, go get something to eat and get some rest. I'll, um…I'll need your help sorting through the prisoners." I look up at her. "I need to know who are our allies or not."

I nod dumbly. "You've got to tell me when you find him."

"I will. I give you my word."

She pushes the curtain back and I stumble out of the recovery room. I see Finnick's red eyes as he sits outside. He's being questioned harshly. "I just got up to use the bathroom," he whimpers. "He was asleep and the hall was empty. I don't know how someone could have gotten in that fast." He sees me and moves to stand. The guard puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. "Katniss-"

"How could you?" I say quietly. "If he dies," I shout, "it's your fault!"

I run to the elevator bay and let the doors close before screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

"Look, Katniss!" Prim presses her face to the glass of the hovercraft. "I see our house! And Haymitch, there's yours."

"Yay," he says dryly.

"Home," I whisper. I didn't think I'd see it again.

It's been a month since the war ended. Paylor established the interim government. She's well respected and many of the president's former allies are reluctantly agreeing to support her. Gale is helping her sort out a judicial system for the criminals I helped identify. He said he'll be coming back to Twelve soon, after his work is done. I'm not sure I believe it. There's a great deal of work to do and I've never seen him so passionate or engaged.

And, I can admit, things will never be the same between us. He can see my thoughts are always on Peeta.

He's still missing.

My nightmares are discovering his body. I call for him and hear his voice. I run through the conservatory, seeking him out. I hear his screams and imagine the torture he faces. Sometimes I get there to see Snow shoot him through the heart. Sometimes it's a group of faceless rebel soldiers tearing him apart. Sometimes he's being sucked under the earth by the purple and black tendrils of the plant; drowning as his lungs fill with dirt. Sometimes he's being drowned in the reflecting pool. When the splashing stops the mirror of the water shows it's me that's murdered him.

I wake up weeping. Prim doesn't need to ask. She hands me the tissues and strokes my hair until I fall back asleep. I didn't want to leave Thirteen. Not until I knew what happened to him. Until I had a confirmation he was dead or alive. But she wouldn't go with me. And Prim needs to get away from this place.

The hovercraft lowers onto the field in front of the Victor's Village circle. I thank Boggs for the ride; it was merciful not to take the train. Too many people would have recognized me. I don't want to speak to anyone.

Haymitch and my mother disembark. I pick up Prim's bag and see she's helping the fifth passenger of our small flight out of her seat.

"Thank you," says Sae as she shuffles to the door. I can't help but stare. I found she'd been taken prisoner the afternoon Peeta disappeared. I had her released immediately.

We stand on the grass and wave the hovercraft farewell. "Where do you live?" Prim asks Sae. "Can we help you get home?"

The grey-haired woman laughs quietly. "Don't rightly know, sweet child. I haven't been in Twelve since I was a young woman learning to cook. Mustn't have been thirty yet when they took me the mansion, I think. Don't even know if my family's line is still here."

Haymitch snorts. "Was anyone in that home there voluntarily?"

She smiles sadly. "Aye, a few. But most of us wanted our lives back." She sighs. "And my poor young master."

I swallow the knot in my throat.

She smiles at me. "Did you like your wedding cake?"

I jerk my head back and force a smile. "Yes. It was beautiful," I tell her.

"Good, good. We worked on that one for a long time." She smiles to herself. "Oh, I hope he's all right somewhere. That boy was as sweet as his mother. I couldn't replace her, but… I loved that boy." She nods to me. "Take care of yourself. Stop into town sometime, I'm going to set up a food shop as soon as I can."

"I'll come see you," I lie. I know I can't face any reminders of him. I wish she hadn't come back.

She nods and meanders out of our Village. We silently watch her shuffle away.

Haymitch coughs. He's never brought up Peeta since that day. I hope he keeps up our unspoken truce.

"I'm going home." He tries to think of something comforting, maybe distractingly rude, but gives up and walks away from us.

"Come on, girls," my mother sighs happily. "Let's get inside."

I sit on my bed and stare at my hunting boots. _I lost the dandelion pin_. It hurts to remember. It was on my wedding dress. The one Peeta unzipped and I let fall to the floor. _We made love in his bed_, I remember. _He was my husband. He loved me. I couldn't protect him._

I lie back on the pillows and let the nightmares come.

* * *

><p>I'm staring at the fire in the living room when the phone rings. For a moment I imagine it's him. Calling while Portia hovers around him, begging him to stop calling the girl who is causing him all the trouble. But I know it's not him. He's been missing for three months now.<p>

My mother hurries in the living room, frowning as she sees me. I'm three feet from the phone but made no move to answer it. I don't know why she still acts surprised. It takes all the energy I have to get out of bed. I haven't gone hunting in weeks. I ran into Sae walking back through town the last time I went and refused to go back.

"Oh hi, Gale!" My mother pushes my shoulder. I shake my head. "She's right here." She forces the phone into my hands.

"Katniss?"

"Hi."

"How's it going?" I can hear the worry. My mother told him to call, I realize.

"Fine."

He's silent for a second too long. "Glad to hear that." I say nothing. "Um. How's the hunting? I bet great now that the fence is down."

"I'm not hunting."

"Oh."

"I know she told you to call me."

"Katniss, we're just worried about you-"

"Worry about him, he's the one who's missing," I snap.

Gale sighs heavily into the phone. "Katniss, you've got to face it. It's been three months. He's gone. He's….he's probably dead."

I stare at the fire. It burns into my eyes.

His voice is gentle. "You've got to let him go. Your mother says you're not eating well, you wake up screaming. You can't keep hanging on to this. He wouldn't want you to live like this."

"Thank you for calling." I lean over and slam the phone down the receiver.

"Katniss!" my mother appears from the study. I should have guessed she'd be listening on the other phone.

The phone rings again. She quickly picks it up. "Gale, I'm so sorry about her-Oh. Oh, no I'm sorry, I thought…yes. Paylor? Yes, I'll hold on."

Prim appears at the back door, wiping her hands on her apron and holding a bucket of goat's milk. "Kat, I'm going to make some cheese," she calls to me.

She comes to the living room when I don't answer. She sees me slumped in the chair and looks over at our mother as she plays with the phone cord.

"Yes, President Paylor," my mother says, raising her eyebrows at me and Prim. "It's very good to hear from you. Primrose is doing very well, thank you," she smiles. "Yes. Me too! Katniss? She's…coping. Things are difficult…yes. I do understand. Yes, I'll tell her. I know you haven't given up," she says pointedly at the back of my head. I glower at the fire.

"No, I've never been there. The ocean, right? Yes."

She's silent for a long moment. Her eyes grow wide. She's quiet for so long even I turn around to look at her face. She is rapt and a smile is breaking across her face. "That would be incredible," she breathes. "Yes. Absolutely. Yes. Okay. Tomorrow, yes. I'll call around noon. What's the phone number?" She's giddy as she hangs up the phone. "They're building a hospital. In District Four." A smile breaks out over her features. "They want me to come train doctors."

Prim drops the bucket and cries out. She rushes forward to embrace our mother.

"You're leaving?"

My mother looks up at me. "Well, I thought…we'd leave."

Prim releases her and looks over at me. "Katniss…you wouldn't…go too?"

I clench my jaw as I think about it. It's hard to admit why I don't want to go. "He knows I live here."

My mother looks away, pained. "Katniss."

"If I go, he wouldn't know where to look for me," I interrupt.

"Katniss."

"No!" I jump off the chair and run up to my room.

The soft knock comes a few hours later. "Come in, Prim," I say to the ceiling.

She appears with a smile and a sandwich. "It's wild turkey," she tells me as she climbs on to the bed. "From Sae."

I sigh and take a bite.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to Four. With Mom," Prim says slowly. "I want to learn to be a doctor."

I hide the pang of pain and smile at her. "My sister's going to be a doctor." She looks like she's ready to jump with excitement. I haven't seen her this happy in a long time.

"Are you…going to come too?"

"I…I don't know Prim," I sigh. "I don't know what to do." I stare out the window.

"I want you to come." I look at her. "Even for just a little while. To see if you like it."

"Prim," I choke. "I just…I'm not ready to…" I let my words trail away.

She's thoughtful. "We could leave a note. Or tell Haymitch where you are. So if…when he comes here, he'll know where to look for you."

I close my eyes. "Thank you, Prim. I know…I shouldn't…"

"It's okay, Katniss," she says softly.

I sigh. "Okay, Prim. I'll go with you. Even if it's just for a little while."

* * *

><p>The beach is tranquil in the early morning. I scratch my peeling sunburn and sit down on the sand. The surf washes over my feet. I sigh and inhale the salty air.<p>

District Four is beautiful. I'm sorry I can't stay here.

Mom and Prim have adjusted quickly to their odd hours and work in these past three weeks. Their shifts vary; sometimes they're both gone in the early hours of the morning, sometimes my mother works overnight and Prim trains all day. Regardless of when they work they are thrilled with their work.

Prim sits at the dinner table and talks non-stop about what she's learning. She's never been so talkative and cheery. My mother has to remind her to eat or she'll forget in her excitement. My mother looks tired, but has a glow of pride in her that's been missing for a long time.

I do very little here. I fish; the old men who sit at the dock were happy to teach me. Only one mentioned he knew who I was. He told me quietly he'd been a fan of Amaranth and was glad to live to see my freedom. He showed me how to tie off the line and wait for a fish.

I wander the markets and examine the exotic fish in the tanks. I watch the stray dogs play on the beach. I sit in the surf and watch the early morning swimmers and runners move up and down the shore.

I'm useless here. I know I'll need to go home soon. I stare at the sunrise over the water.

"Katniss?"

"Finnick?" He looks genuinely surprised, maybe even concern when he sees me.

I stand up and hurry over to him. "I…I can't believe it's you. You look great," I note. He looks as incredible as ever.

He smiles. "Well, I have an image to upkeep." His smile frowns a little. "What are you doing here?"

"My mother and sister are training at the hospital. Well, what will be the hospital," I gesture to the half-built structure generating a clatter of construction sounds. He nods noncommittally, as though I've said something difficult to understand. I realize that's not a reason for me to be there.

"I…came along. I…didn't have anywhere else to be," I say, defeated.

"It's okay," he tells me quietly. "There's a lot of that now."

"I'm sorry I shouted at you. In the recovery room. I know that wasn't fair."

He shrugs. "I would have done the same."

"Finnick," I plead. "Do you know where he is? Is he all right? I haven't heard anything." I feel the tears starting and bottle them back.

He pulls me in for an embrace, shushing me. He drops his mouth to my ear. "He's okay. He's fine."

I jerk my head back up. "Where? Where is he?" I nearly shout.

"Quiet!" he whispers hastily, glancing at a runner who slips by. "It's not safe for him yet."

"Please," I beg. "I've got to see him. Where is he?"

"I can't tell you that, Katniss."

"Please!"

"I can't," he insists. "Please don't ask me."

I blink away tears. "I know, I know. Do you see him? Can you tell him I'm sorry?"

Finnick sighs. "If I see him, I'll tell him."

"Thank you."

He looks me over again. "Take care of yourself, Katniss."

I wipe my nose on my sleeve. "Thank you, Finnick. You as well. And your wife."

He smiles. "Annie's pregnant."

I'm dumbstruck and finally manage "Congratulations!"

He grins. "This world…" he looks at the sun as it rises over the water. "It's going to be all right now."

I watch him walk away smiling.

* * *

><p>I'm packing my suitcase while Prim and my mother are at the hospital. It'll be easier to leave after I tell them I can't stay here if I'm ready to go when they get home. He's alive. Finnick will talk to him. He'll come see me. And while I wait, I need more distractions. I need to hunt in the woods. I need to smell the coal dust. I need the trees. I can't stay here.<p>

I hear the soft knocking at the door when dusk is settling. I frown at the clock that tells me my family won't be home for another two hours.

I open the door.

I must be dreaming. I must have died. This can't be real.

"Finnick said you wanted to see me," he mumbles.

He's real. I'm choking and I can't breathe and I think I'm going to faint. I stumble backwards and fall when I miss the chair by the door. Peeta darts forward. "Are you okay? Katniss?"

"You're here." My words are staggered.

He pulls me up and sits me in the chair. "Yeah. I'm here."

"How-?"

"Finnick. He knows everyone. And the nurses in the hospital adored him, so…he had them smuggle me out. Snuck me here."

I think my jaw is in my lap. "It was him?" He was a better actor than I realized. "You've been in Four?" I can't stop staring at him. I'm afraid if I blink he'll disappear. "You're okay."

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry. About…" I freeze. Because I'm sorry about everything. But I don't know how to say that. "Your father."

I see the wince ghost over his face. The wound is still fresh. "It's okay," he says, but his voice betrays him. He shrugs and tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. "He never really…he tried to kill me."

I'm trying not to cry, but faced with his pain it's nearly impossible. "Peeta-"

"Please. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," I whisper. I don't know what else to talk about. It's all I've thought of for weeks. "What are you doing here? I mean, what do you do?"

He leans against the sofa arm. "I, um, I bake."

"What?"

"You remember how Sae used to let me help? I told the baker here I was an apprentice in the Capital and she gave me a job."

"How..what…?"

"I use my mother's name," he says quietly. "I go by Peeta Mellark. They don't really ask questions. They think Snow's son is dead. Everyone saw him get shot," his voice cracks again. He looks away from my face. "How's Prim?" he asks the window.

"She's doing great," I say, glad for the excuse to talk about happy things. "She's studying to be a doctor at the hospital they're building here."

"That's great," he murmurs, genuinely pleased. "And…there's no…"

"No," I say quietly. "She still has nightmares sometimes, but otherwise. No lingering side effects."

He closes his eyes in relief. "I'm so glad to hear that." We let a pause grow.

"Look," he inhales. "If this is about getting it annulled, I don't know how to do it either. I don't think it really matters, though. Any magistrate is going to let you remarry without questioning it." My jaw falls open. He looks at his shoes. "You and Gale are…engaged?"

"No! No," I say quickly. "This isn't about that at all. I mean, we're not together."

"Oh," he says as he furrows his brow. "I guess I just assumed since…he's not your cousin."

"No. We were never together."

"Oh." He furrows his brow.

I don't know what to say.

"Um. So what did you need? From me?"

"Nothing," I blurt out.

"Why did you want to see me?"

"Peeta," I breathe. "I needed to know you were all right. When you went missing, I thought you'd been kidnapped or killed-"

"I'm fine." He shifts uncomfortably. "I guess. I should go."

"No!" I leap to my feet. "Please. Stay."

"Katniss," he sighs.

"Please listen," I beg. "I never meant to hurt you. You are incredible and funny and kind. But you must know how much your…how difficult it was to say no to…the Capital. I had to say yes. I didn't know how wonderful it was going to be at first, I only knew I was frightened for my family. If I had known how happy I was going to be with you, I'd have told Gale and Haymitch and Johanna to find a way to stop the rebels right away. But I didn't know until…it was too late."

He's staring at the floor. I reach out gingerly to touch his arm. "I didn't know I loved you then."

He looks at my hand on his arm. I'm wearing the wedding ring. I see him swallow hard.

"I need to go to work," he says abruptly and moves to open the door. I push it shut. I move quickly and press my lips to his.

His shock melts after a few moments and his hands wrap around my back. I open my mouth to his and push into him. I slip my fingers through his hair. He tastes my mouth, breathing hard against my cheek. His grip around my waist tightens.

He jerks away suddenly and stares at me. He pulls open the door, looking back over his shoulder at me. "I'm sorry, I just…I have to go."

I follow him out the door. "Peeta!"

He breaks into a run and disappears around a corner. I kneel on the threshold and cry.

* * *

><p>Prim squeezes my hand as the train rolls into the station. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" she asks as we watch the incoming passengers to Four disembark.<p>

"Yeah," I tell her. "He wants to forget about me," I say, ignoring the pain. "I should go."

"Will you call? I want to know you get home safely."

"Of course," I smile at her. "Tell Mom I love her, too."

"I will."

The conductor calls for outbound passengers to board. I stand up and pick up my bags. "Oh, wait." I drop my bags and reach for my hand. I slip the ring over my knuckle. "Will you give this to Finnick? For Peeta. It was Amaranth's."

Prim looks up from the ring in her palm. "Are you sure? He didn't ask for it back."

"I lost the dandelion pin," I admit. "I want him to have some keepsake of her. He's her son. Will you tell Finnick that?"

Prim nods. She opens her arms and I hug her again.

"All aboard!"

I haul my bags over my shoulder and climb on board. I secure them above the bench seat and press my face against the window to see her. She's wiping her eyes and waving.

I press three fingers to my lips and set them against the glass. She covers her heart with her hand.

The train pulls out of the station.

* * *

><p>I'm still spitting leaves from my mouth when I get back to the Victor's Village. I tripped over a root chasing after a duck I spotted flying above the branches overhead and landed face down in the soft earth. I yank a stick from my hair and sigh.<p>

Getting back to hunting was difficult. I had to do something. I had to get out of the house. Even Haymitch started stopping by to make sure I was still alive. When he asked Sae to bring me some food I decided if I didn't go hunting I'd end up sitting at home every afternoon, forcing polite conversation with them.

I cough out a leaf and round the side of my front porch to leave my muddy boots outside.

I freeze.

He stares at me.

"You have a pinecone in your hair," Peeta says finally.

"I fell," I answer.

We look at one another.

"I brought this back to you," he says, standing up. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. He opens up the fabric.

It's my wedding ring.

"But…it's your mother's. Don't you want it?"

He shakes his head. "No. I, um. I know she didn't want it. I know…how she died."

I swallow hard. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Do you want this? I'll give it away if you don't."

"I want it," I say quickly, and dart forward to take it.

He watches me slip it on to my ring finger. "You don't have to wear it."

"I want to."

We stand in silence for a moment.

He coughs. "You still have a pinecone in your hair." He hesitantly reaches out. "May I?"

I nod.

He tries with one hand to remove the pinecone but has to use both when it becomes evident it's hopelessly tangled. He struggles with it for a few minutes, trying not to laugh. I start to laugh at his frustration.

He finally frees it and laughs as he throws it into my untended garden. "You really need to comb your hair," he grimaces with a smile as he looks at my hair.

I run my fingers through my locks and feel the knots. I blush.

"Um." I look back at him.

"I should get going," he sighs. "See how's Sae's doing. Finnick said she called-"

"Do you want to go to the meadow?"

He looks up, startled. "Right now?"

"The dandelions are in bloom."

"Yes."

We walk through town slowly. He looks at all the construction with wonder. "What's going on?"

"There's more money coming through now," I tell him. "We can make repairs and fix things that have been falling apart."

He looks pleased. "I'm glad to hear that. How's the mine? Is Gale still working there?"

"No, he's in Two, actually."

"Two?"

"Yeah, he's heading up the new criminal justice system. Trying to figure out fair punishments for lawbreakers. Once we have new laws, I guess."

He nods thoughtfully. "I can see he'd like that." He glances over at me. "I know it was him."

I try to find the words. "It's okay, Katniss," he sighs as we shuffle slowly past the West mine entrance. "I know…it had to happen."

I don't speak until we reach the meadow. When he sees the sea of yellow he finally loses his composure. He collapses into a bed of dandelions. I sit heavily next to him.

"I wanted to believe…for so long…that he was good leader," Peeta sighs when we've settled our breathing. "That he just understood things I didn't. That," he chokes, "That my mother loved him. I was stupid."

"You loved your father," I tell him. "You wanted him to be the man you thought he was."

He nods. "I'm sorry I dragged you in to all this. I should have listened to Portia. She told me so many times to leave you alone. And now…"

"I'm glad you didn't listen," I murmur.

He looks at me. I lean forward slowly. I wait. He hesitates. I look into his eyes. He leans forward. He kisses me back gently.

We watch the sun move over the meadow for hours.

"The trains are finished for the day." I tell him shyly as we walk back through town.

He hesitates.

"I have extra rooms," I say quickly. "If you want."

"You're alone here?"

I nod.

"I guess…that's okay," he says. He gives me a small smile.

We make rabbit and wild onion soup over the range and he tells me about life in Four. He's learned to swim and fish, but he's found a real talent in baking. I tell him about hunting and my sister's discoveries in medicine.

"You must miss her a lot."

"I do," I sigh. "She's growing up so fast." I look back to him. "Thanks to you."

He raises his eyebrows.

"You helped her get to me. In the City Center. You saved her life."

He looks sadly at the pot on the stove. "I only wanted the best for you and your family."

"I know. I love you too."

Our eyes meet. I shut off the stove and pull the pot off the burner.

We make it upstairs to my room before I tear open his shirt. He gasps as I attack his neck with my mouth. His fingers yank on my shirt and pull it free from my pants. It rips as I help him haul if over my head.

"Sorry," he gasps.

"I don't care," I say, pulling his mouth back to mine.

I grab his hand and drag him to the bed, tripping on the carpet. I jump on my mattress and pull off my pants and underwear as fast as I can. I sit up and hold out my hand to him.

He stands at the foot of the bed, looking at me.

"Peeta?"

"Are you…sure about this? I just…I don't want you to think you…feel bad for me."

I crawl down to the foot of the bed. I draw up to my knees and bring my mouth to his again. "I want to be with my husband," I whisper to his lips.

The word flips a switch and his hands are back on me. I pull him down on top of me and he struggles to get his pants off when I can't let go of him for even a moment. We cling to one another, wanting to erase the pain of the past with the joy of the present.

Finally he's disrobed too and climbs over me. I bring my legs up to his sides and run my fingers along his face. "I love you."

He lowers himself into me. I arch up and press against him, relishing the feeling of fullness. Of completion. He groans into my neck. He waits, giving my body a moment to remember him.

He moves inside me and I cry out with happiness. I wrap my legs around his back as he thrusts deeply. He hoists himself onto his palms to watch my face as he grinds against me. I look him in the eye and bite down on my lip. "More."

He complies and the room starts to spin. I dig my nails into his sides, rolling my hips back to take him deeper and harder. I gasp and cry out over and over. His skin is slick with sweat as he moans and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back for me.

His hands move to my hips and lift me higher, giving himself an angle that makes me scream his name. I feel my whole body contract around him. I shake and shudder and babble as he drives me to ecstasy. His fingers grip harder and he suddenly stills, his mouth falling open as his head falls back as he cries out.

He falls forward, lying halfway on me and half next to me on the bed so I can breathe. I feel his burning chest heaving against my stomach. It's like another heartbeat through my body.

We cool down and my leg muscles get stiff still splayed out around his hips. He gently withdraws from me and rubs my joints, kissing my knees as he bends my legs. He looks up from where he kneels over me.

"Katniss."

"I love you," I tell him honestly. "I want you to stay here with me. I want to try again."

He smiles at me. "I was just going to tell you that you still have a leaf in your hair." He reaches to my mussed braid and pulls a small maple leaf from behind my ear. He unsuccessfully stifles a chuckle.

I push him off me with a shout. "Why didn't you say anything before we walked through town?" I yell, but I can't help but smile.

"I didn't see it!" he laughs as he stretches on the bed. "I wasn't as close to it." I pout and fold my arms over my bare chest. He grins and reaches over to catch my elbow. He pulls me down on to his chest. I sulk happily. "You don't have to be a lady anymore," he says quietly. "I always loved you as you were anyway."

"Thank you," I whisper as I feel the fatigue setting in. "I've forgotten most of what Enobaria taught me anyway."

"I can tell."

I laugh sleepily as I pinch his waist. "Ow," he smiles. He kisses my forehead. We drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p>I don't have to work very hard to convince Peeta to stay. He wanted to anyway, even if it took him a long time to admit it.<p>

When I call Gale, he insists he'll come back to Twelve to visit and I smile as I tell him I know he won't. We aren't the children we were together anymore. He has a life in Two. His family joined him there already. I wish him well as we say goodbye.

We received good news and terrible news every day. We find out who we lost, who went missing. We find out who survived, who is changing the world we live in.

Peeta finds work at Sae's food shop making the breads and I try not to visit too often. I can't help it. I love watching Sae mother him and worry that he's not eating enough even though we've both gained more weight than we needed to after the hard months following the uprising. I blush over my curves in the mirror, but he greedily explores them until I don't think about it anymore.

Paylor was relieved to hear he was alive and agrees that he's well hidden in the Twelve. Most of the country does believe he's gone and we agree to keep up the illusion and his name change. She does call him every now and then for intelligence on how things were done and whom the best allies to lean on are. He's glad to help build the country over again, just as he wanted.

She invites us to come to the Capital a few years after the war has ended as an advisor, but he refuses politely. He wants to raise our children in Twelve.

We sit in the dandelion field one night, my head resting on his lap as I stare at the stars. He runs his hand over my blossoming stomach. "Katniss?"

"Yes?" I murmur.

"I want to call her Amaryllis. For my mother."

I feel the child inside me stir. I smile. "That sounds beautiful." I roll my head to look at his eyes.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you happy?"

"Completely."

"No, no, I mean. Your whole life you planned to rule this country. And now you're a baker in a District. Is this what you wanted?"

He sighs and frowns while he considers the question. "It isn't what I planned. But this, right here, it is what I wanted."

"Hmmm," I say doubtfully.

"Well, I could call Paylor if you want to move back to the Capital," he smiles. "I hear Effie Trinket opened her own clothing shop." He smiles down at me. "You could sell those antler dress designs to her."

"I'm fine, thanks."

He laughs as he helps me up. We walk home under the stars.


End file.
